


The Jellybean Infringement

by Micrindle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Abortion, BTVS Season Six, Discussion of Abortion, F/F, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy, Useless Vampires, Vampires, hot vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2020-03-08 13:37:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18895675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Micrindle/pseuds/Micrindle
Summary: When Willow brought Buffy back from the dead, she wasn't the only thing that was resurrected.She brought Spike back too.Let me be very clear, this is not a baby fic, not really;There will be a baby, but it will not be Buffy's.This fic deals with abortions and all the awful stuff that goes along with it.If that's not your bag, I wouldn't recommend clicking any further.This work was inspired by the amazing Versheenah, whose excellent fic Choices gave me tons to think about and ended up turning in to this story.Thank you Versheenah. (https://dark-solace.org/elysian/viewstory.php?sid=6093)Based on this challenge from Mia Vaan; https://dark-solace.org/elysian/modules/challenges/challenges.php?chalid=1432





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations, if you've made it this far, I look forward to having you!
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Hey all, heavy content coming up, so this is your last opportunity to decide that you don't want to read this content.
> 
> Betaed by Twinkles, the amazing, amazingness of her amazes me!

_“If I could start again_

_A million miles away_

_I will keep myself_

_I would find a way”_

 

Hurt, Johnny Cash.

Hurt lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd 1994

  
  


“I know you'll never love me.”  
  
Buffy paused halfway up the stairs, and turned back to look at Spike. No one had ever looked at her the way Spike did. Not Pike, not Angel, not Parker and definitely, heartbreakingly, not Riley. Whatever happened in the next few hours, she was pretty sure that nothing would ever be the same again. She was terrified.  
  
“I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man. And that's….” He stopped and looked away.

“Spike, I…”

He looked up at her in surprise; he obviously hadn't been expecting an answer.

She swallowed nervously. “Come with me.” She held out her hand to him and he cautiously followed her up the stairs and into her room. The look of wonder on his face took her breath away. She closed the door and turned to look at him. “I… I can't give you what you want.”

He looked in her eyes searchingly. “I know.” He blinked. “Do you want me?” he said, his cockiness disappeared and he suddenly seemed a lot more fragile than usual.

“Yes,” she said nervously, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Please.” He let out a low moan and stepped toward her.

She met him halfway, pulling him into a bruising kiss so hard their teeth clacked together. His fingers tangled in her hair as she hurriedly pulled his shirt out of his pants. Touching him everywhere. Frantically trying to memorise the hard planes of his torso, the long rippling lines of muscles in his lower back. Suddenly she needed to know everything about him, his touch, his... She finally came up for air.

“Buffy, are you sure you want this?”

“God, yes.”

Then his fingers were on her fly button, and hers were on his. The loud metallic jangle of his belt sent adrenalin up her spine and made all the fine hairs on her arms stand up.

He was suddenly hard, and god -just there, in her hand. More alive than any vampire had rights to be. Silk over steel. She was naked from the waist down, jeans and underwear hanging limply from one foot as she was picked up bodily and pressed against her bedroom door, his hard, cold body between her thighs.

“Oh god, Buffy. So warm, pet, this is more than I ever… You’re going to burn me alive.”

She arched up against him and pressed her pelvis into his. “No dying,” she said breathlessly. “Not unless I say so.”

Spike snorted softly into her neck.

“Now, ahh. Please, do the... thing. I…”

He nibbled the junction of her throat and shoulder and moaned at her taste, she was divine. And, for a little while, all his. She was so soft and he shuddered as she sank her teeth into his shoulder. She groaned and twisted her hands in his hair and murmured nonsense into his throat, sucking and licking with hard teeth and soft lips, they were both lost.

 

*

 

She was gone.

She was gone and he could still smell her everywhere.

His coat, his jeans, himself. The decadently pungent smell of her arousal enveloped him completely, as though she was just in the next room.

But she wasn't.

It was like a sick joke.

It pricked at his sanity and twisted his gut.

_I failed her._

_I failed her and she gave me this._

_God._

He picked up another bottle of Jack and eyed the other half dozen he had managed to accumulate over the last two days or so.

_Maybe I can forget, just for tonight._

 

“Spike?”

“Yeah, Nibblet?”

“How long has it been?”

He snorted, “Since I was sober, or since…”

“Since… you know.”

“One hundred and forty seven... I don't think she’s coming back, Nibblet. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s my fault she jumped, not yours.”

“Promised I’d keep you safe, didn’t I? If I’da done my job properly she wouldn’t have had to jump.”

“Yeah, and if I didn’t exist in the first place no one would have died.”

“Nibblet-”

“It’s true!”

He sighed. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one then, pet.”

A beat.

“Tell me about Halloween again. I like that one.”

He snorted fondly and put the bottle down.

 

*

 

One hundred and forty-seven days.

It felt like a lifetime. A hundred lifetimes even. She had been soft and warm and done. She had been done, and then suddenly she had been undone. Insides torn out, skeleton stripped from flesh and soul pulled from body. All smushed back in wherever they would fit. Most of it didn’t. She had to get used to using... Fingers and hands and feet and toes. And her head, it pounded. Like a million tiny maggots were banging on a million tiny drums, all stuck behind her eyes. Her skin was all waxy. That one she had managed to look up on the computer. Willow had been overjoyed with her sudden passion to research something; indeed she had been so involved in patting herself on the back she hadn't paid attention to what it was.

Saponification.

Adipocere.

_Corpse wax._

The idea made her skin crawl and her stomach turn. In fact...

“Buffy?”

“Dawn, I’m sorry, now is _really_ not a good time.”

A glass of water was thrust into her field of view and she gulped it down gladly. She settled back against the cold porcelain. A memory from before the battle started to surface and she pushed it away quickly. No need to think of that right now. Consequences and all... _consequences? When was the last time…_

Dawn plopped down on the floor next to her. “You aren’t going to die again are you?”

Buffy wiped her mouth with some toilet paper and tossed it in the toilet bowl but made no other effort to get up. She waved Dawn’s concerns away, “Nah, I don't think Willow would like that.”

Dawn's laugh seemed to get stuck on the way out and it turned into an awkward throat clearing noise. Buffy reached over to pat her sister's hand in what she hoped was a comforting way.

“I probably just picked up a bug from somewhere, Dawnie. I’m sure I’ll kick it in the crotch once my slayer healing decides to get its rear into gear.” There were a few moments of silence.

“You still have your Slayer-ness, right?”

She nodded. “Yep, just call me slay-girl.” Buffy gave her a grin that was mostly wince.

“Dawn? Where are you?”

_Oh god, just perfect. Now Spike is here. He’s going to do that sniffy thing and that other thing where he looks into my brain and pulls out all the things I’m trying to keep private._

“Spike! We’re upstairs!” Dawn called back.

 _Consequences, consequences. Oh please no. Damn it, Willow!_ She let out a slow breath and plastered on a smile even as her heart rate went through the roof.

“Praying to the porcelain gods again? Something not agree with you, pet?”

Buffy looked him up and down warily as he appeared in the doorway, then dropped her gaze to the tiled floor. “Yup, you.” She pulled a face at him.

Dawn looked between them both for a moment. “So, is he here to babysit me, or you?”

Buffy sighed and pulled herself off the floor. “Me, probably.” She gargled some mouthwash and motioned him to come with her.

Suddenly they were outside, laden with stakes and headed toward the nearest cemetery. That had been happening a bit recently. She changed course.

“Where are we going, pet?”

“Pharmacy. I have a bad feeling about me being sick.”

He nodded, “Lead on, slayer.”

“Do I like, smell weird, y'know since I've been back?”

He grimaced. “Yeah, like death and, well, life, I guess. Reckon it’s holdover from Red's spell. It’s going away slowly though, I wouldn't worry too much pet.”

_Like something like this would go away that easily._

She bought what she needed and was relieved when Spike chose not to pry. It was suspiciously un-Spike-like.

 

*

 

The waiting part was almost as bad as the battle with Glory. Well… that had killed her. This could end up being a slower type of death. The Slayer-with-a-deathwish kind of death. She rubbed her eyes with her fists. This was so not happening. What higher power had she managed to piss off so thoroughly that she had to be torn from heaven, pull herself out of her own grave, be completely broke then (possibly) end up with Spike's child?

 

*

 

Was it possible to die from puking too much? If so, she should definitely be dead by now. Again. Whatever.

There was a door. On the other side of it was an annoying ( _but hot)_ vampire who was apparently the father of her unborn jellybean, or however big it was. She had no idea why she was here. Except, Spike had been kinda nice to her the last few weeks, and it was technically his little demon spawn she was carrying around with her. Besides, it wasn’t like she could get more pregnant. Her train of thought came to a screeching halt. _Vampire sex_ had gotten her into this problem, more vampire sex was _not_ going to fix it. ( _or would it?)_

 

“Spike.”

 

“Slayer, so you've decided to make an entrance. I was wondering how long you were gonna stand out there muttering to yourself.”

“I… I was-was _not_ muttering. I was… planning. Yeah. That.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his tatty easy chair. “When you've decided to do whatever it is, maybe wanna let me know? Till then…” He waved a hand.

“I just-”

“You just?” he said lazily, eyebrow lifted in question.

“I don't know what to do! My boobs hurt and Dawn is flunking math and I don't know how to make her do her homework and I'm so completely broke it might be easier just to set the house on fire. I can't sleep and my skin is all disgusting and waxy and you and your little demonic jelly bean need to get out of my uterus! It’s not fair! You were supposed to- and I was supposed to- and I just want Mom and ohgodI'mgoingtobesick.” She punctuated that last thought by vomiting in his shoes. They, thankfully, weren't on his feet at the moment, but that didn't really make her feel any better.

_He wasn't going to understand. Why should he? Vampires didn't typically father children. She was going to be on her own again._

She crumpled, coming to sit beside his defiled shoes on the dirt floor. “I'm sorry about your shoes,” she hiccuped.

“Slayer? What…” He padded over to her on bare feet.

“Your shoes,” she waved at them in explanation. “I'm-sorry-I-know-they're-probably-your-only-ones-and-now-you-don't-have-any-shoes - _hic-_ all my fault.” She risked looking up at him. He was staring down at her in concern and confusion. _Wait, that couldn't be right._ She looked up again, and drew back a little as he crouched beside her.

“Buffy, pet,” he said gently, reaching towards her for a moment and then deciding against it. “What's happened?”

“Willow, she-”

His face turned hard and she flinched away from him. “What has the bloody witch done now?”

Buffy stared down at the floor. “She- when she resurrected me I _-hic-_ think she bought more than me back.”

His brows drew together. “Something besides that ghost thing?”

She nodded. “It's not- there isn't--wasn't anyone else. I'm not making this up, I promise. I just don't…” She buried her face in her hands and started to sob.

“Buffy,” he said firmly, “stop. You're going to make yourself sick… again. What- jelly bean? You aren't making sense, pet.”

“They were there the whole time, inside me, and when I came back, she brought them too, all wiggling. They were alive, and now it's growing inside me and I can’t stop it! I can’t do this!”

His Slayer was starting to sound like Dru. “Buffy!” he gripped her by the arms and she looked up into his eyes. She looked like a wild animal; cornered, terrified. Her heartbeat pounded in his head. So loud, and hummingbird fast, as though it might burst from her chest.

“I’m sorry, she didn’t just bring me back, she brought you back too and I can’t. I’m sorry.”

 

“Buffy, what’s she done to you?”

Buffy leant forward and gripped his arms so hard her fingertips turned white. “Can’t you hear it? It’s there, it has to be there. There wasn’t anyone else. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

 

“Hear what? All I can hear is you, pet.”

 

“No! You have to!” She shook him. “I’m not crazy! It's there! It has to be! All the tests said it was. Please!” She gripped his face with shaking fingers and stared into his eyes. “Listen! Listen!” She was silent for a moment. “If anyone would know, it would be you. Angel said... he said.”

 

“What the blithering hell has Angel got to do with any of this? What tests? Buffy, you’re talking nonsense, pet. Calm down.”

 

“He said you were the best, only for Dru, likes the way they taste. You could always tell first. For her. Just for her. Can't you tell for me? What's wrong with me?”

 

_Willow had brought him back too..._

 

“And you said… you said I smelled like life. Yesterday. You said that. It's not just me.”

 

_Listen. Listen._

 

It was barely there.

 

 _Listen. Dru_. His stomach twisted, he felt sick with dread.

 

He cocked his head and moved a little closer.

 

_Wush-wush-wush-wush._

 

“Buffy, you’re... You’ve got-” He couldn't breathe, which was ridiculous, because he didn't need to anyway.

 

_Wush-wush-wush-wush._

 

“Don't say it. If you say it then it’s really real, and I can’t.”

 

Now that he knew it was there he couldn’t not hear it. “You were being serious when you said I wasn’t agreeing with you yesterday, weren’t you?”

She nodded mutely.

“What do you want to do, pet?”

Her mouth hung open. “But, don't you want… To, you know, keep it?”

He frowned for a moment and came to sit cross-legged in front of her. “In a perfect world? If you and me were together, if the scoobies actually liked me, maybe, but only if we both wanted it. I wouldn't want it like this, Buffy. Never. It’s hurting you.” He looked down for a moment. “‘Sides, doesn’t matter what I think, it’s your body, pet. You do what you think is right, I'll support you either way, much as I can. Much as you'll let me.”

She wiped her face and sniffled a bit. “I'm- I'm not sure what I thought was going to happen when I got here. It wasn't this. How do you always know what to say?”

He snorted and looked away, “Don't rightly know about always, pet. Had my fair share of broken noses courtesy yours truly, remember?”

She let out a watery laugh. “I never said you always know how to make me feel better, just that you always know what to say to get a reaction.” She rubbed her eyes on her sleeve. “It's really annoying.”

There was, if possible, the first ever comfortable silence to happen between the both of them.

 

“Where's your head at, pet?”

 

“Three guesses what the guys will say.”

“Ah,” he shrugged, “depends on what you tell them. Immaculate conception? Hell baby? How the hell could you have sex with ‘that?’”

She wrinkled her nose, “I was more thinking of the ‘p’ word.”

“The ‘p’ word?”

“Prophecy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, last time there was a prophecy involved, I died. I'm not interested in playing that game again.”

He sighed. “What do you want to do, pet?”

“You're right-”

“Well, there's a first time for everything.”

Buffy pulled a face at him. “And you were doing so well. But, you're right, in a perfect world that would be nice, but it’s not, and we aren't. I can't have this-- this jelly bean thingy, it'll end up getting me dead-” he winced “-again, or get one of the guys killed protecting me. I'm already miserable as it is, I can barely keep me and Dawn fed, let alone all the stuff that comes with having a-a - jelly bean-”

“You're going to have to actually say it at some point, love.”

She glared at him. “P- I'm… You, me and Willow got me pregnant.” She shuddered.

“It's really mine?”

 

 _Wush-wush-wush-wush_.

 

“There hasn't been anyone else, Spike. Besides, you've seen me every day since I've been back, have I smelt like anyone else any time in the last six weeks?”

He shook his head. “When are you going?”

“Lunchtime. It was the earliest they could get me in.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

“Oh,” he said, trying to keep a straight face.

“You-you'd come?”

“Well, yeah. Would you want me to?”

“Um, I think that would make me feel slightly less worse.”

He laughed. “You have a way with words, pet.”

Buffy bit her lip. “It's the sexual health clinic on Sunny U grounds. Do you think you can get there?”

He frowned for a moment. “That one with the big willow tree out the front?” She nodded. “Think I can swing that without becoming a crispy critter.”

She smiled. “That would be nice.”

“Exactly how many tests did you take?”

She blushed and looked away. “Um, it was a box of 6 and I took all of them, you know, just in case the first 5 were faulty.”

“Ah, I see the Nile runs deep this time of year.”

“Hey! You would have been freaking too if you'd figured out you'd gotten pregnant from reanimated vampire spunk.”

An amused half-smile flashed across Spike’s face. “And rightly so too.”

Buffy toyed with the idea of a pregnant Spike waddling around for a few seconds and grinned. “Who's ever heard of a pregnant vampire before anyway?”

“Pshh, like something like that would ever happen.”

They were both silent for a few minutes. “Um, I gotta go get some stuff for- ah- later on. I'm sorry about your shoes.”

“No fear, pet, I've had those boots in far worse than a bit of vomit, they'll be fine.”

Buffy scrunched up her nose. “Eww. I'll see you later OK?” She stood up and smoothed out her shirt.

“Yeah, see you later, slayer.”

She looked guiltily between the door and his shoes. “Sorry for freaking out on you before. Um, I feel really silly now.”

Spike looked at her and rolled his eyes. “Stop apologising and get gone, pet. Let a vamp catch a nap.” His tone was teasing and the knot in her chest loosened a bit.

She smiled and waved awkwardly before leaving him to do his vampire thing.

 

*

 

They managed the get Spike into the clinic with minimal smokage. He sat uncomfortably in one of the hard chairs in the lobby while she went to speak to the receptionist. He stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Hi, I've got an appointment for Buffy? At 12.”

The receptionist _-Hayley-_ squinted at the computer for a few seconds. “Here you are, Miss Summers.” She rummaged for a few things from underneath the desk and popped them on top of a clipboard. “Can I see some ID? Thank you. Just fill out the forms, pee in the cup and someone will be with you soon.”

Buffy stood there for a moment. “Uh, thanks, I guess.”

The receptionist smiled at her kindly and picked up the phone that had started to ring, turning away from her and focusing on her new task.

 

She sat down heavily on the chair next to Spike and poked the sample jar with the pen for a minute. How did one pee in a specimen container? Did you like, stand up a little bit? Surely that was a recipe for disaster. This whole being with jelly bean thing was confusing.

“Might as well fill it out, pet, you aren't getting any less pregnant.”

She eyed him irritatedly and sighed loudly. She looked down the page. There were lots of questions, she frowned. What did it matter what her annual income was? How did that have any bearing on whether or not she could have an abortion? She didn't even need a reason, not in the state of California. Annual household income? She shook her head and filled out the few health-related questions, leaving the rest blank. That would be good enough. She returned the clipboard to the receptionist and went in search of a bathroom.

 

*

 

She tried to discreetly return the specimen jar to the receptionist, who smiled like it was an everyday thing to be handed small jars of pee and held out a small plastic zip lock bag for her to drop it in. “They aren't going to help you, you know.” Hayley said it so quietly she almost missed it.

“I'm sorry? What are you talking about?”

“They're going to try to talk you into keeping it, don't listen to them.”

“What? Why?”

A door to the left of them opened and a woman dressed in scrubs stepped out with a clipboard. “Miss Summers?”

“Yeah, that's me.”

“Please follow me.” Buffy shot a worried look at Spike, who looked as confused as she felt. She followed the woman into a brightly lit room, which, she noticed, was covered floor to ceiling in posters of happy families holding babies, serene looking mothers caressing baby bumps, and religious scripture, all over the walls. A table of baby paraphernalia was positioned very obviously centre stage, next to an anatomical model of a pregnant woman, split in half so you could see, in detail, the numerous things that happened during pregnancy.

“So,” the lady in scrubs started, sitting comfortably across from Buffy and handing her a small plastic foetus. Buffy realised what it was and put it down quickly. The lady frowned at her. “My name is Catherine, what can you tell me about yourself?” Buffy had opened her mouth to answer when another lady in scrubs entered the room bearing a slip of paper and handed it to Catherine. Her face lit up. “Oh, wow. Congratulations, mommy! Aren't you just so happy?”

Buffy frowned - surely Catherine had read what she'd filled out on her forms, in which she had explicitly written she wasn't interested in keeping it. “Well no, see-”

“Why ever not? Surely to be blessed with a child is a joyous occasion?” Catherine smiled at her some more.

“No. Not on this occasion it isn't.”

Her face fell for a moment. “Well why don't we have a look at this tiny bundle of joy, huh? I'm sure that would make you feel better, wouldn't it? I know It would make me feel better.” She sighed wistfully “The miracle of life never ceases to amaze me.”

The knot of uncomfortableness wound tighter in Buffy’s chest. _Was this lady insane?_ “You know, I didn't catch your credentials, what exactly are you? A doctor? A nurse? What are you licensed to practice?”

Catherine steered Buffy over to an examination table that she hadn't noticed among the cacophony of colour and confusion. “Oh, dear we're all equals in the service of the Lord, it wouldn't do to flaunt medical certificates-”

“Ah, no,”  Buffy interrupted her, “I think that is actually like a law or something. I'd like to see whatever certification you've got please, before this goes any further.”

The lady stopped trying to manhandle Buffy on to the exam table. “My, my, you're a stubborn one aren't you? Anyone would think you want to destroy the tiny, innocent life inside you. Do you know that the poor little thing can feel pain from six weeks gestation? You'd be damming that tiny, pure soul to a painful end, just because you don't think you want it. Lord save you!”

Buffy ripped her arm out of Catherine's hand. “Look, lady, I really don't care what you think about me, or your God, but this is something I've decided is the right thing to do. I can't afford a baby. I'm unemployed, the baby’s father and I aren't together, and I don't have any other family that can support me. I'm not having this child just because you're trying to guilt me into it! Either give me what I need, or I'm leaving.”

 

“Harlot!” she hissed. “May the Lord have mercy on your soul!” she yelled as Buffy wrenched open the exam room door.

“I don't see why he would, he hasn't so far.” She slammed the door closed and strode angrily out into the waiting room. Thankfully Spike already had his coat on and was waiting to leave, standing next to the front door of the clinic looking incredibly uncomfortable and - even more incredibly - angry. She didn't blame him; she wanted to go back and rip that ladies head off too.

“Miss!” the receptionist said, rushing out from behind the counter. “Here, take this.” She thrust a pamphlet bearing the words, ‘The Lord and you, caring for your baby from conception through birth,’ into Buffy’s hands. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I did try to warn you.” She cleared her throat. “Be sure to have a look through this before you make any decisions,” she said a bit louder. She smiled, winked and walked away, taking her seat back at the reception desk. “Where do you want to go, pet?”

Buffy hugged herself. “Can we go back to your crypt? I don't much feel like going home and being by myself right now.”

He patted her on the shoulder and opened the door. “No problems, pet,” He waved out the door. “After you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys,
> 
> Sorry for the heavy content, all.
> 
> Unfortunately, it gets worse before it gets better.
> 
> If anyone would like any info on other clinics like the one that Buffy visited, please have a look at the links below.
> 
>  
> 
> Vice News; Fake abortion clinics.
> 
> https://video.vice.com/en_ca/video/fake-abortion-clinics/55e0dbc4ca0b0b2c784ce599
> 
>  
> 
> John Oliver; Crisis Pregnancy Centers
> 
> https://youtu.be/4NNpkv3Us1I
> 
>  
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment, however, please know that inappropriate comments will be reported and deleted.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all.  
> Hopefully, this has all been received fairly well, I'm just posting these first two chapters together to keep you guys up to date with EF. I wouldn't want you guys to miss out.  
> Betaed by the always illuminating Twinkles!

_ “I hurt myself today _

_ To see if I still feel _

_ I focus on the pain _

_ The only thing that's real” _

 

Hurt, Johnny Cash.

Hurt lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd 1994

  
  
  


Willow was bored. She had hoped that she could get in some best friend time while everyone else was at class, but Buffy wasn't home. She debated performing a location spell so she could surprise Buffy with some coffee and a doughnut. She sighed; Tara had complained she was using too much magic. Again. She might as well clean up a bit while there was no one home. 

 

*

 

How did four people generate so much rubbish?  _ And _ no one had sorted it properly. How did they expect to save the environment like that? Willow sighed and started sorting through the rubbish bin. Really, no one appreciated how much work she put into things, how much she did for everyone. 

 

Ten minutes later it occurred to her that she might be being a little bit obsessive about the rubbish. She would just finish off Buffy’s bin and everyone else could sort themselves out. Buffy had been having a really hard time since she'd come back from hell. 

 

Oh. Well, she hadn't been expecting that. She had better call the guys. 

 

*

 

Buffy spent twenty minutes anxiously pacing around Spike's crypt before he growled at her to sit still so she could figure out what she was going to do now. 

“You know everything that bloody bitch said wasn't true, right?”

Buffy pulled threads from her shirt hem despondently. “I know, it’s just- how can they do that? How is it even legal? She just made me feel like scum because she thinks my life is less important than a bunch of cells with a heartbeat. That I'm just some sort of incubator for god's plan. It's just so  **_wrong_ ** _. _ Am I not allowed any bodily autonomy at all? I was called, I've died twice, surely I should be due a break by now. _ ”  _

“I'm sorry, pet. You shouldn't have had to go through that.” He was quiet for a moment. “What was that pamphlet that chit handed you as we were leaving?” 

“Oh, um.” She searched through her pockets and pulled out the crumpled paper. She flattened it out and a business card fell out onto the floor. 

“Wassat?” 

She turned it over in her fingers. “It's an appointment card for Planned Parenthood in LA.”

There was something written on the back. 

_ Buffy, I'm sorry you had to go through that. There aren't any clinics that provide the services you're looking for in S.D. _

_ Louise and the ladies at PP in LA are the closest, and they offer the most compassionate care that I've ever experienced. Good luck.  _

Buffy handed Spike the card. “Would it be asking too much for you to drive me to LA?” 

“Not at all, pet, just tell me when and where.”

“I'll go call them now. Thank you for doing this. You didn't have to.”

“Anything for you, love.”

“Ok, I'll be back soon. Thanks again.”

 

*

 

Buffy had a good feeling about her appointment this time. Planned Parenthood had been willing to discuss pricing on the phone, unlike that other place with  _ Catherine.  _ She had to tamp down the impulse to go and find the horrible lady and give her a piece of her mind. Properly this time, now that she wasn't in shock. 

 

She walked slowly back to Spike's crypt. He'd been downright decent to her since she'd sprung the news on him, and after some initial disbelief, hadn't treated her any differently. She was pretty sure the guys weren't going to see it that way though. She needed to talk to Dawn and explain what was going on so Willow, Xander and Giles didn't gang up on her and twist her around. Which brought her back to the issue of Spike. If she was honest with herself, she had been harbouring a few snuggly feelings for him since just after his kidnapping. Or- there had been some, nicer snuggly feelings during Willow's spell, but the way he'd reacted when she'd jumped off his lap after the spell ended had put a definite dampener on it. Well, his teaming up with Adam had hurt a lot more than she'd expected it to as well. 

Hadn't the guys been at least a little bit open to her dating Spike back when they thought she was the Buffybot? Xander said something about him being attractive too.  _ Hold up. _ Dating Spike? ( _ would it be so bad?)  _ Probably not, the vamp was loyal to a fault; he loved Dawn enough to withstand torture for her and had stayed and looked after her while she was dead. It wasn't that she believed he couldn't love -just look at Drusilla- was obsession something that could last a hundred and twenty years? She didn't think so. The middle of an emotional crisis was probably not a good time to start a relationship, but then, when wasn't her life in some kind of turmoil? Hell, she’d given Ben a shot with Glory breathing down her neck ( _ and hadn't that turned out well?)  _ slayer work never stopped for her love life and life never stopped for slaying emergencies. Besides, having a super strong boyfriend who could hold his own in a fight and didn't mind her being stronger than him seemed nice. He understood the whole slayer thing, intimately. He wouldn't be disappointed if date night was interrupted by a brawl. Actually, he would probably be happy about it. Also, he didn't need to breathe. This thing sounded like it could have some seriously amazing perks. 

 

*

 

“I don't understand why we are all here with whatever it is that is going on, but I don't think it was a good enough reason to close The Magic Box. I'm losing valuable revenue sitting here for no reason.” Anya said.

Xander paced agitatedly around the living room of Revello drive. “Ahn, this is important. Buffy could be in real trouble!”

“I was under the impression that women got pregnant all the time in this era. I really don't see what Buffy’s reproductive organs have to do with us. She's a grown woman who deserves to have orgasms with whoever she wants.”

“Be that as it may,” Giles said firmly, “it's incredibly irresponsible of her to put herself and us in this position.”

“Giles, I r-really don't think she meant for this to happen. I can't believe y-you Willow, rather than talking to her about this privately you're j-just going to spring this on her in front of an audience.”

Willow looked up from a pile of paperwork she was searching through. 

“Tara, you don't understand - it’s just I found-- _ ah hah! _ ” She pulled a sheaf of papers out of the teetering pile and waved it excitedly. “This, I found this, just after we resurrected Buffy. Here, Giles.”

She handed him the file and he sat down wearily on the couch. 

“Willow,” he said after a few moments. “How did you come across a copy of the Nyazian Scrolls?” 

Willow waved his concerns away. “Never mind that, read the bottom part.” 

Giles adjusted his glasses, but still squinted at the page. “Through two dead/deaths and a great power a life shall be created, the Tro-Clon, and he/she/they shall bring about events which will cause the purification/ruination of man/demonkind.” He took his glasses off and polished them with his hanky. “How accurate do you believe this is? Where, in fact, did it come from?”

“That's where that went!” Anya said in outrage.  “Willow, I've been looking for that for weeks! I can't believe you would just take something from the magic box without paying for it! How am I supposed to make any profits if you keep stealing from me?” She turned to Giles. “I got it from one of my contacts from the magic box, I met him back in my justice days and he does a teeny bit of time travel for the right price.”

“Time tr-” Giles looked absolutely dumbfounded. His mouth made a little ‘o’ of shock. “The _Nayzian_ _Scrolls_ have been searched for and the remaining fragments debated over for centuries! And he just-” he cut himself off abruptly, apparently overwhelmed. He cleaned his glasses again for good measure. 

“Asked the monks nicely if he could have a look, really I don't see what the big deal is, we have a scroll that claims the end of time is near, what's new? Apocalypses happen all the time. So far you have all performed adequately in stopping that from happening. Just continue as you were.”

“Ahn! Really?” 

“Yes, Xander, it's true, I don't know why you all seem so confused every time it happens, surely you should all be used to it by now.”

“Surely I should be used to walking into you guys arguing in my house. Why are you all here? It’s the middle of the day, you all should be at work.”

“That's what I've been saying, Buffy. I don't see why we need to have a meeting to discuss your pregnancy, it’s ridiculous. I could be earning money right now.”

“My _what?”_ A tight ball of fury lodged in her chest and stopped her from breathing. “How the hell do you know about that? Is that what this is? Is that what this intervention is for? How about you all mind your own damn business, what I do with my body has absolutely nothing to do with all of you.”

“I'm rather afraid it does though, Buffy. By getting yourself in this condition, you've put yourself and all of us at risk.”

There was no way Giles was stupid enough to think she had done this on purpose. “ _ Getting myself in this condition?  _ Firstly,  _ how dare you.  _ Secondly, what exactly is it that makes you feel you have the right to judge me? Thirdly, for your information the last time I  _ engaged in intercourse _ was before I died, if it’s anyone's fault I'm pregnant it’s  _ Willow’s _ . Fourthly, Willow, does privacy not mean anything to you? What was wrong with talking to me without the peanut gallery? How did you even find out?”

Willow, at least, had the grace to look sheepish. “Well I- sort of got carried away sorting the rubbish and I went into your room because I was trying to help! I swear! And how could you not tell me? How is this my fault anyway! I didn't force you to sleep with anyone, who did you sleep with anyway? And when?”

“None. Of. Your. Business. I only found out this morning. You violated my privacy. This intervention is over. All of you get  _ out _ .”

“I told you all this was a waste of time, Buffy has this under control. Let's go.” Anya got up to leave and deflated a bit when Xander didn't follow. 

Buffy eyed him icily “Yes Xander, please show yourself out, I have things to do. Take the rest of them with you.”

“Really, Buffy, I can't believe you're being so flippant. This is a serious matter.”

“Thank you, Giles, for pointing that out. It hadn't occurred to me that I might be putting myself and my friends in danger by getting pregnant. I was under the impression that because I died I really wasn't going to have to worry about birth control, but nope, Willow woke those little suckers up and knocked me up just because my life wasn't difficult enough already. If you'd all leave I could get back to fixing this situation, thank you very much.”

“What? No, you can't get rid of it! There's a-” 

“Willow, if the next word that comes out of your mouth starts with a ‘p’ and ends in ‘rophecy’ I'm going to have serious problems with not beating you to death. Besides, what are you going to do? Hold me against my will until I pop this thing out? What gives you the right to tell me what to do with my own body?”

“S-she's right sweety, you can't ask her not to do that. It’s wrong. Just let her do what she's decided to do, she's right, it really is none of our business.”

“She's right, Buffy deserves the right to have agency over her own body, God knows she hasn't really had any say so far.” Everyone stared at Anya for a moment. “Because of the whole being called thing, working for a bunch of old misogynists,” -Giles made a disgruntled noise, which Anya ignored- “and dying for the world twice already.” 

“Yes, Anya, exactly that. Now, everyone leave. Get out of my house and keep your grubby mitts away from my uterus.” Buffy turned and walked upstairs, leaving them all babbling in confusion. 

She packed a bag for two nights and stuffed Mr Gordo in for good measure. The next two days were going to be incredibly unpleasant. Something familiar would probably make her feel better. 

She waited a few minutes for the voices downstairs to go away, but it seemed she was going to have no such luck. She sighed and went downstairs to meet her firing squad. 

The questions and accusations started immediately.  _ Where was she going? What was she doing? How could she do this? Couldn't she just wait a few days and think about it some more? Who was the father? Why wouldn't she tell them? What was she thinking?  _

How could they all be so cruel and insensitive? Anya and Tara at least looked uncomfortable and made noises about leaving, to no avail. 

“You guys can stay here and yell at me if you want, but I'm not changing my mind and I'm leaving right now. Goodbye.” Buffy moved towards the front door but Xander stepped in her way, blocking her from exiting. “Who was it, Buffy? I can't believe you'd just go and find some random guy to hump before going and saving your sister.”

The ball of anger tightened into a fist in the middle of her chest. “Xander. Get. Out. Of. My. Way. If I have to move you myself I'm not going to be gentle.”

He stepped toward her, getting into her personal space. “Who'd you give it up to, huh? Was it against some dirty wall in an alley somewhere?” 

There was an outraged chorus of “Xander!” from around the room. 

_ Right, no more Miss Nice Slayer.  _

“Why?” she said, pushing her face into his and planting a pointy slayer finger in the middle of his chest. “Does your jealousy need a further play-by-play?” Their noses were so close they were almost touching. She jabbed him with her finger and he grimaced and tried to push her away. “It was the best sex I've  _ ever _ had, by far. And you know what? It’s  _ still _ none of your business. Get out of my face before I remove you.”

He glared at her in disgust “There's something wrong with you, Willow must have brought you back wrong. The  _ real _ Buffy would never act like this.”

Buffy closed her eyes tightly, trying to will herself into not snapping, because she might end up killing him with how angry she was. “Anya, I'm sorry if I end up injuring your boyfriend, but he won't let me leave.” Buffy went to step around Xander, but he chose that moment to grab her arm to stop her leaving. She placed her opposite hand over his knuckles, swung her arm across her body, grabbed his arm with the one he had originally tried to hold her back with, and forced him onto his knees, bent over and facing away from her, pinning him to the spot with his arm and shoulder. “You couldn't win last time you laid hands on me, Xander, what makes you think you'll take me this time?” she snarled in his ear. 

He made a pathetic whimpering noise. “Buffy, let go! You're going to dislocate my shoulder!”

 

“She asked you three times Xander, and she's hardly even hurting you,  _ I _ could do what she just did without much effort at all. You're lucky she hasn't broken your arm. Stop being an idiot and let her leave, before she breaks something important on you.”

  
  


Buffy gave Anya a thankful nod and turned to leave again. 

“Buffy,” Said Willow softly, resolve face firmly set. “I can't let you do this.” Buffy turned and scowled at her friend. “Stop me,” she said, and turned away. 

Willow took a sharp breath, muttered ‘ _ congelo’ _ and flicked her wrist at Buffy. 

 

A crack echoed through the room like a gunshot. 

 

Buffy stumbled, the spell held her for a microsecond and then dissipated completely. 

 

“What is  _ wrong _ with you? You don't just bespell your friends!”

 

Willow stood, stunned in the middle of the living room. A bright red hand mark covered her left cheek. Tara moved shakily across the room to get away from her girlfriend, tears streaming down her face. 

Buffy turned to speak to Willow. “Don't be here when I get back. Find somewhere else to stay. If you're still here, I'll throw you out myself.” She gave Tara a sympathetic look.  “You're welcome to stay Tara, and Dawn and I would love it if you could.”

Tara gave her a watery smile and nodded. “I'm sorry, but I really have to go.” 

 

“I know. Good luck.” 

 

*

 

“Why are you here? You never come and pick me up. What's wrong?” 

 

“There's some stuff going on that you need to know about. Is that Janice's Mom?”

 

*

 

“You're the best! I can't believe you managed to convince her I could stay during the school week!” she made an excited noise and danced along the street for a few metres. “What do you need to go to LA for anyway? It's not to see  _ Angel,  _ is it? Say it's not to see Angel. Where are we going?”

Buffy rolled her eyes “No, it’s not to see Angel, and we're going to Spike's crypt. The rest you'll have to wait to find out.” 

 

“Bufffyyyyyyyy, pleeeeaaassseee.”

Buffy winced. There were pitches she was sure that only her sister could reach, and she was certain that this one was higher than any she'd ever had the displeasure of experiencing before. 

“It's not going to kill you to wait for fifteen minutes. Come on.”

Dawn made the noise of a dying seal, but continued walking. 

 

*

 

“OK, guys, this is creepy. One of you say something; you both look like someone's kicked your puppy.” 

Buffy and Spike looked at each other. “How much do you want to tell her, love?” 

“Well,” she faltered, “I dunno, let’s try keeping it pg-13.”

 

“It's not pg-13? What are you guys talking about?” Dawn looked between them questioningly. “Somebody say something!” 

 

“We're going to be talking about some really adult stuff and I need you to think really hard before you start getting upset. I'm upset enough as it is, and I've listened to enough people yelling at me already today.” Buffy sighed “So, before I died, after Glory kidnapped you, Spike and I went back to Revello to get some weapons. And…um...” 

Spike sighed and rubbed his face in his hands.  “Me and your sis had sex. Then when Red brought her back she...” 

“Got me pregnant, it’s Spike's, and we're going to LA because I can't keep it and no one in Sunnydale is equipped or willing to help me.”

 

Dawn sat down heavily on the sarcophagus and looked at her hands. “But… Why?”

Spike crouched down in front of her and gently took her hands. “Why what, Nibblet?” 

“Why wouldn't you tell me? I've been worried for ages about how sick you’ve been. I thought you were going to die again!”

“She only found out this morning Nib, and she's been abused by the Scoobies and some awful bi-” Buffy cleared her throat pointedly.  “- _ cow _ from the health clinic since then. Be nice.”

 

“Why can't she keep it though? I  just-- I don't understand. Isn't a baby usually a good thing?”

Buffy gingerly sat down next to Dawn and brushed her hair away from her face, and the youngest Summers looked up at her in confusion. “Sometimes, but not now.”

“Is it because its Spike's? Is that why you don't want it?” Dawn narrowed accusing eyes on her sister. Buffy dropped her hand in dismay. 

“Dawn, no- that's not-” she started. 

“That's not fair, Bit. It wouldn't matter even if it was the reason; it’s her body and she can do whatever she wants with it. Whether or not it's mine has no bearing on the situation.”

“So you're OK with this then?” Dawn levelled at him. 

Spike looked away for a moment. “Do I wish things were different? Yeah, but there isn't anything I can do about it. Not right now anyway. What I can do now is support your sister with whatever decision she wants. Like you should be.” he gave her a stern look and she looked away guiltily. 

“It's not--I wouldn't be keeping it. Even if it was Riley's.” She hazarded a look at Spike. “Even if it was Angel's,” she finished quietly. 

“I still can't understand  _ why  _ though? Everyone’s so sad now, wouldn't a baby make everybody happy?” 

 

“You want Buffy to carry a baby she doesn't want just so other people are happy? Shouldn't she get to be happy too?”

“Well, yeah… I suppose.” Dawn looked thoughtfully at the floor, her brows furrowed in speculation. 

“And you get that her being the slayer means lots of nasty things come after her and her family? How is she supposed to keep you lot safe if she's up the duff? ‘Specially if the little one can't defend itself, it'd make a nummy snack for any passing baddie.” He shuddered a little bit. “It'd devastate her.”

“Oh,” she said quietly. 

“Yeah, oh,” he finished and looked up at Buffy, who gave him a sad smile. 

“So you never get to have kids then?” Dawn asked, looking up at Buffy again. “That's not fair, you always said you wanted kids before you got called.”

Buffy gave a melancholy shrug. “Maybe, one day when the world doesn't need saving any more, or at least, not by me. In the meantime - this is how it is.”

 

“What actually happened when you went home, pet? You were all turned about before.”

“They were all there, all ready to stage an intervention. They all knew and none of them bothered trying to talk to me about it privately, just jumped down my throat and tried to make my decisions for me. They didn't care what I wanted. Just that I'd been horrifically irresponsible and _ ‘put them all in terrible danger’ _ . Giles was disappointed, Xander was jealous, and Willow thought there was a prophecy.”

 

“But what if there is, though pet?” 

“If this doesn't work?” Spike nodded, his face serious. 

“Then I'll jump off that bridge-” Dawn and Spike both winced and Buffy sighed at them. “- _ deal  _ with it if it comes to that. The powers can foist a mystical pregnancy on someone else. This slayer isn't having any of it.”

“Since when have you ever let something like a prophecy stop you, anyway? You're Buffy The Vampire Slayer, thwarter of stuff she's not supposed to be able to thwart!” Dawn gave a little cheer and the knot in Buffy’s chest unclenched a bit. Dawn knew what was important, and that this was her decision. She understood, as much as a teenager could be expected to, and seemed to be on her side.  

“Love you, Dawnie.” 

Dawn leaned her head on Buffy’s shoulder and held her hand. “I love you too, OK? I'm sorry if I didn't really get it before, it’s just, like, I've never really thought about the whole baby situation not being a good thing before. It seems a little bit wrong, but I think Spike's right. Asking or making you have a baby you don't want is majorly of the bad, no matter the circumstances. The guys should get that; if they're really your friends they should understand. Not try and force their opinions on you and make you feel guilty. That's really sucky of them.” 

Buffy pulled her sister into a hug and resisted the urge to bawl her eyes out. “Look at you being all grown up, when did you get so smart?” 

Dawn grinned “I've always been this smart, you're just a butt head who doesn't pay attention!” Buffy ruffled her hair, and she squawked in protest and tried to extricate herself from Buffy’s hug. 

“Come on, let's go get your stuff packed so I can drop you off at Janice's. I want to try and avoid the guys if I can; hopefully they've all gone back to work now.”

 

Dawn nodded and Spike got up to follow them out. “How about I come round in half an hour, and we can drop off Dawn on our way out of town, if that's OK?”

Buffy nodded, “That sounds like a good idea. Thanks for doing this, Spike.”

He grinned and waved them out the door.  “See you soon, ladies.”

 

Dawn at least had the decency to wait until they were mostly out of earshot of Spike's crypt before she broke down into excited, eardrum-splitting squeals. “You and Spike! I told you you'd be good together. Are you and he, like, a thing now?  _ Please _ say you two are a thing now! Or was it one of those oh-my-god-we're-gonna-die type things?”

 

Buffy looked at her little sister; she wasn't wrong, not really. “You'd be OK with it? Me and Spike, I mean?” 

 

“YES!” she squealed. “It would only be like, the best thing  _ ever! PLEASE _ say you and Spike are a thing!  _ Please _ !” 

Buffy considered Dawn; she loved Spike, and had no problems with her seeing him. Anya and Tara would also, likewise not have any problems with this. The people who were supposed to be her best friends and father figure, though? They would have all the problems. They were supposed to support her and all they'd done recently was be disappointed in her and generally make coming back from heaven really difficult.  _ Would dating Spike be so bad? (no, it would probably be amazing) _

“I'm thinking very hard about it, OK? No promises.”

Dawn made an excited shrieking noise and almost ran into a gravestone. “You are the best sister ever!” she said, once she’d recovered from almost concussing herself. Buffy rolled her eyes, “Sure, I hope you remember that the next time I tell you to do your homework, Missy!” 

 

“But, Buffffffyyyyyyyyy, noooooooo!” she whined. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again.  
> Please feel free to leave a comment if you enjoyed this content, or it made you think. Please don't leave hate comments, they will be reported and removed.  
> Thanks all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Hey all!
> 
> I know you all are probably holding out hope for a few of my other fics but, for the moment this one won't leave my muse alone.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, its mostly Spuffy relationship building.
> 
> Thanks go always to my Excellent Beta Twinkles! or, better known around here as wolf_shadoe!

_ “What have I become _

_ My sweetest friend _

_ Everyone I know _

_ Goes away in the end” _

 

Hurt, Johnny Cash.

Hurt lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd 1994

  
  
  


The drive to LA was one of the longest and most awkward experiences Buffy had ever had. It was weird; there had never been a time when she felt like she had a lack of things to say to Spike. This new non-talky dynamic was wigging her out. She couldn’t wait any longer; she was going to go crazy, or more crazy. “What are you doing?” she blurted, more forcefully than she meant, and instantly felt awful. 

He turned to look at her in surprise, “What the hell does it look like I’m doing, slayer? Having a tea party? Shagging Sheryl Crow?” He looked confused at himself, and Buffy frowned. 

 

“Have you ever met Sheryl Crow? Why would your mind jump straight to her? Have you actually had sex with her?” Buffy bit her lip, realising that last part had come out sounding a bit jealous. OK, a lot jealous. 

He looked between her and the road in confusion a few times. “I don’t bloody know, do I?” He scowled - or kinda squinted - at the steering wheel “No,” he said glumly and sunk down in his seat a little bit. “I mean, that's not what I meant. I meant, why is everything so awkward now? We’ve never had a problem with this before, I don't- why?” He sighed, and his shoulders drooped. “You’re being nice to me- I don't know what to do, this is new and strange territory.” 

Buffy’s stomach dropped, and not in a way that meant she needed to vomit. “Oh.” That was awful, what kind of person was she to make Spike all confused and weirded-out by her being nice? Had she really never been nice to him, ever? “Sorry,” she said quietly. “You’ve been nothing but supportive since before I vomited in your shoes. I'm not sure how to talk to non-snarky Spike. I guess this is gonna be awkward until we figure out what this is.” 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “This?” he said uncertainly and squinted at the road a bit more. 

Suddenly she had a desperate need to figure out what was going on with his face--er eyes. ( _ Chicken!) Mmm, Spike eyes.  _ Buffy shook her head. “Why do you keep squinting? I thought vampires were supposed to be able to see really well in the dark.” ( _ That's right, change the subject, you wuss.)  _ Buffy growled at the little voice in her head.  _ Feelings are hard and scary. No feelings right now.  _

“Er-” he said awkwardly, “It's nothing, don't worry about it, I can see fine, love.” He hunched over the steering wheel, and made a face like he was trying really hard not to squint. 

“Is it embarrassing? Because I'd like to remind you that you watched me vomit in your shoes today and then completely freak out a few seconds later. It was easily the most humiliating thing that's happened to me since sixth grade when Tracy Newcastle stole all my clothes  _ and _ my towel after swimming lessons and made me run into the hallway to get them, naked.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “That's a thing that  _ actually  _ happens? I thought that might have just been a thing that happens in the movies or some such rot.”

“Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p’, “that is a thing that actually happens, stop changing the subject, tell me why you're all squinty-vamp?” 

“Well, at the moment I'm imagining naked Buffy running around the school with no clothes on, all flushed, embarrassed and brassed off.”

She punched him. “Eww Spike, I was only, like, twelve or something when that happened.”

He scrunched up his nose. Which was weird, maybe they had been spending too much time together and she’d rubbed off on him. “I was imagining grown-up Buffy; I'm not Angelus, pet. No matter if you were delicious-looking jailbait or not.”

 

Buffy scowled at him. “You changed the subject again.  _ Tell me,  _ or I'm going to find out if you're ticklish and I'm not going to be gentle.”

Suddenly, there was real fear in his eyes.  _ Oh my God. Was Spike ticklish? BEST DAY EVER!  _ “Spiiiikkkeee,” she sing-songed, turning her fingers into tickly claws of death. “Tell me!” 

He took his eyes off the road for another few seconds and they bugged out. “No! Slayer, bloody hell no! Let a vamp have a few secrets, yeah?” He batted away her questing phalanges with his hand, keeping his arms glued to his sides to stop the insane chit currently inhabiting his front seat from tickling him. He glanced at the shoulder of the road, trying to make a decision whether or not it would be safer to pull over and be attacked or just to tell the barmy chit. He watched the slayer slowly advancing on him across the bench seat, wiggling her fingers at him threateningly. Why couldn’t she have just staked him already?

“Fine!” he said in resignation. “I was blind as a bat when I was human, had those natty wire-rimmed glasses and everything. When Dru turned me my eyesight got a bit better, but nowhere near 20/20, ok?” He sighed. “I usually drive with the demon out, but I figured you wouldn’t like that.” He risked a glance at Buffy, who was now sitting on the bench seat looking thoughtful. 

“There’s that much difference between your normal eyesight and when you’re in game face?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, laugh it up, slayer,” he said grimly. 

“Why? It’s not that funny. You know what was funny though?” -he shook his head hesitantly- “The look on your face when you thought I was going to tickle you, which I definitely was, by the way.” 

He looked back at her for a second with a raised eyebrow, then turned back to squint at the road and mumbled something that sounded like ‘ _ crazy chit’  _ under his breath. Buffy punched him in the arm again and huffed at him irritatedly. 

“Oi, slayer, lay off., I’m delicate.” 

Buffy snorted, “Pshh, hardly, Mr I'm-pretty-sure-a-broken-nose-counts-as-first-base.”

He shrugged, “And what of it? I know it gets you hot too, slayer. Beating up on a poor defenceless vamp like myself.” 

 

_ Oh, ouch.  _

 

“You aren't as defenceless as you seem to have everyone convinced you are, Mister. There's nothing stopping you from poisoning us, or laying a trap, or getting one of your demon friends who doesn't need an invite to kill us in our sleep. Why didn't you? In the beginning, I mean?”

He looked at her irritatedly. “The first five times weren't enough for you?” 

Buffy scoffed, “Like you were ever even close!” 

He rolled his eyes at her. “Oh yeah right, slayer, your mum had to save you the first time!” He shook his head and turned back to watching the road. 

“No way!” she exclaimed indignantly. “I almost had you! I was just about to head-butt you when Mom hit you with the axe! Then it would have been-” she feigned an innocent expression, “William the Who?  _ Oh, that guy. _ Yeah, he's total dustbuster material. _ ” _ \- She scrunched up her face. “Was he like, famous or something?” She shrugged.

Spike looked at her in disbelief. “You didn't know who I was until  _ after _ I threatened you at The Bronze?” he sputtered. 

“Why would I? As far as we all knew the most high profile vamp that hunted slayers was Lothos, and I'd killed him the year before. We didn't make the connection between Spike and William the Bloody until after back to school night - Angel just showed up and was all, ‘He's worse, once he starts something he doesn't stop until everything in his path is dead-” Spike muttered  _ pillock  _ under his breath “-which, now I think about it, is not entirely accurate.”

“Oi!” he said indignantly. 

“And it's not like you look identical to any of the portraits the council had on record, unlike every other vampire over a century old we'd ever been up against. And the council thought Dru dusted in Prague, so we tended to take their information with a grain of salt.” 

A shadow crossed over his face, then he shook it away and squinted at the road again. 

This time an almost companionable silence settled over the Desoto. 

 

“I - ah,” Buffy started nervously. “I think I would be OK with--um the- your demon. If that would -make it easier for you.”

He looked at her sideways and rolled his eyes. “‘M not about to crash the car, slayer, can do without my game face.”

“That's- that's not why I said it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Ok, that's not the  _ whole _ reason, but, I mean I've never seen your demon without you trying to kill me. It might be a nice change, and well, I've never gotten a good look before because I was always busy trying not to die those other times.”

“You were… trying not to die,” he deadpanned. “And you thought you were going to win the fight at the school? Has wishful thinking managed to carry you this far through your slaying career, or is there some higher power intervening for you at opportune moments?”

“Hey! You were supposed to be unkillable with that gem thingy and I beat you! All on my own!”

He looked uncomfortable. “Well, the sun was in my eyes. I wouldn't call it a fair fight;, I was dazzled.”

“Pshh. Yeah, dazzled by your own hair, Mr radioactive.”

 

“What is this?” Spike asked after a few moments. 

“This?” said Buffy awkwardly. “I was kinda trying to come up with an answer for that as well.” She twisted her hands in her lap uncomfortably. 

“Buffy?” he said quietly. “Are you alright?” He took one hand off the steering wheel and put it on hers to stop her fidgeting. 

“I just-- I'm scared, and Buffy and feelings are unmixy things.” She furrowed her brows. “I don't have to be the slayer with you, not all the time. I mean, sometimes you need slapping around, because, I just-- don't understand how  _ you _ all chippified manage to cause so much trouble.” She sighed, and a grin flitted across Spike's face. “And other times, you don't, and they just expect me to beat you up anyway, like I'm there to cater to their every whim. The scoobies just-- it’s like they don't realise that I've grown up since junior year, but they always expect me to be the one with the plan, or just be  _ The Slayer  _ all the time, when that's not who  _ I  _ am. I'm more than that. And I don't think the guys understand how hard it is for me not to break them. They're so fragile, and they just act like its all fine because I can usually control it. Until I get excited and almost break their ribs giving them a hug or whatever. Then I’m just not being careful, and need to be reprimanded like a child. I'm just so tired of holding back. With everything.” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Except for you.”

She risked a look at Spike. His mouth hung open. “Buffy?” he said it like a prayer; there was so much fierce passion, loving, tenderness and longing behind it she could have cried. 

“I don’t- I don’t get why, but when I’m around you, it’s like you can see inside my brain. It’s unnerving most of the time, but it kind of means I don't have to be  _ on  _ when I’m around you. I don't have to wear the slayer mask, because you see right through it. You don’t push and don’t ask me for things I can’t give. I just get to be myself and, I really don’t remember the last time I got to do that.” She looked down at her hands again. 

Spike was silent for what seemed like years.  _ Maybe he doesn't feel that way about me anymore. Maybe I'm too broken now.  _

He made a noise like he was trying to say something, but nothing came out. Apparently she had broken Spike too. 

“Buffy… What are you trying to say, pet? Because the old noggin’s puttin’ things together that it’s got no rights to.” 

Buffy rubbed her face in her hands.  _ Apparently now was the time Spike was going to choose to be intensely dense. _ “There are...feelings… that I have.” She swallowed. “Uh, in relation to you, that are not of the- ah... negative variety.” 

He raised both of his eyebrows. “You have feelings for me that are not negative. So you are… what? Indifferent?” he said slowly.

Too bad strangling vamps didn't have the same effect as it did on humans; Buffy really wanted to throttle him. “Indifferent? What? _No_! Did I seem indifferent to you when I invited you up to my room before I died and we had sex?” The words came out faster - and angrier - than Buffy was prepared for them to. She _really_ hadn't meant to mention sex right now, seeing as it was the reason they were now on the world's most awkward roadtrip. Her hands flew to her mouth as though she could somehow make all those words go back in. It didn’t work, and she wondered if opening the door of the Desoto and throwing herself out onto the highway might make this situation any better- or easier. 

She took a terrified glance at Spike, who had an intensely blank expression on his face.  _ Excellent _ . Now she was even more wigged than before and had no idea how to fix - or explain - the situation- better known as the absolute train wreck that had just emerged from her mouth.  _ Oh, god, she was going to be sick _ . “Pull over!” she squeaked, in a voice that didn’t sound demanding or forceful at all. Very un-slayer like. 

He adopted a bored expression, ignored her and continued driving. 

“Spike!” she said pathetically, pushing on his arm ineffectually as he rolled his eyes at her. 

“Wot, slayer? Want to have your tantrum outside? Seem to recall you needing to go to LA or some such rot. Now if you wouldn’t mind-”

“I’m going to vomit all over your car if you don't pull over  _ right now _ !”

He looked at her in terror. “Bloody hell woman, don’t vomit in my car!” There was a screech of tyres and several loud honks from behind them as Spike abruptly threw his car off the highway and onto the shoulder of the road. “Get out!” he said, leaning over her to open the door and push her out. 

“Hey, you asshole, I can do that myself!” she yelled as she was dumped unceremoniously onto the gravel on the side of the highway. Thankfully, the car had almost come to a complete stop now. She was going to kill him. Just as soon as she finished vomiting. 

 

Stupid jellybean.

 

*

 

“You right now, Slayer? Not going to vomit in my baby anytime soon are you?”

“Screw you.”

“Seems to be what got us in this situation in the first place, no?”

“Why do you have to be such an asshole?” she shot back, glaring at him.

“Why do you have to be such a bitch?” he sneered. She opened her mouth to call him something else nasty.  _ Wait.  _ “Why do you always do that?” she wondered out loud.

His whole face frowned. “Do what?”

“Start a fight to cover up how upset you are. How did I not notice before?”

He scowled. “I don’t do that.”

“Yes you do!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Ughh! You’re doing it again!” Buffy deflated. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“What other way could you have  _ possibly _ meant it, slayer?” he growled. 

“When have I  _ ever  _ slept with someone I didn’t have feelings for?”

Spike shook his head but kept looking at the road ahead, “Never, but I was just some cold comfort, Buffy- know it didn’t mean anything to you,” he said, defeated. 

She had to tamp down the impulse to break his nose for being so thick. “Since when do you get to decide what I feel? Couldn’t I have slept with you because I wanted to? I could have gone and found someone, anyone, and it would have been a hell of a lot less complicated later. But no, I chose you. Not because you were convenient - you are the most inconvenient vampire ever -but because you’re you and for all the reasons I’ve already said. I wanted to grab whatever piece of happiness I could- one that under normal circumstances I could never indulge in, no matter if I wanted to or not.- which I did- want to- I mean.” She watched his adam's apple bob in silence a few times before he answered. 

“You did want to?” 

“Yes.”

“Er- slayer,” he said, sounding utterly bewildered. “Did you dust me at some point? Because I was sure this was not how this conversation was going to go.”

She scoffed, leaned over, and pinched him. He let out an unmanly yelp. “Believe me now?” she asked irritatedly, crossing her arms and staring sullenly at the dash in front of her. 

“I don't know,” he said quietly. “I want to, though.” 

Buffy risked a glance at him as he lent down to start the Desoto and pull back out onto the highway. She couldn't read his face for once. Buffy wasn't sure what to do with that. Maybe she'd just leave him alone for a bit. 

 

*

 

There was something shaking her. 

“Buffy, love. Wake up. We're here.”

Buffy let out a jaw-cracking yawn. She hadn't slept this well since before she'd jumped, and now didn't feel like the time to be examining why. “Where are we?” she said, attempting to look out the window, and then realising they were blacked out. 

“Outskirts of Los Angeles, have any idea where you’re going to stay?”

Buffy toyed with a snarl that had developed in her hair while she'd been asleep. “Where  _ we _ are going to stay,” she corrected. “And somewhere cheap. I have next to no money for this trip. So bargain motel with uncomfy bed it is.” 

Spike looked between her and the road a few times. “I'll get us a hotel, love. Save your dosh for something more important.”

Buffy looked at him warily. “Spike, I can't let you do that- it's not right. This is my problem, and I'm here to fix it.”

 

He sighed “Look, technically it's both- or if you wanna be more accurate, all three of our faults. Let me chip in to save a little hurt, love. It's the least I can do.” 

Buffy eyed him again. She let out a long sigh, and her shoulders slumped. “Are you going to pay with a stolen credit card? Because… that's not OK.”

He rolled his eyes. “I've got my own dosh, slayer. Just rarely have cause to use it. Not when Harris seems to compulsively leave his wallet around; it's like the whelp is just begging me to steal it.”

Buffy let out a little snort. “See, usually I'd be really annoyed about that, but after what he said to me today I think he kind of deserves it.”

 

“Never thought I'd see the day, the slayer condoning petty theft,” he said with a laugh, then sobered almost immediately. “What did the pillock say?”

“Something crude about me being a slut in an alley somewhere.” She sighed again. “I don't want to talk about it right now.”

Spike growled, and the metal of the steering wheel made a moan of protest. “Bastard,” he muttered. “Boy’s got himself demon girl - who worships the ground he walks on while he runs roughshod over her - and he's still under the illusion he owns you.” 

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but Spike was kind of right.  _ Well, there is a first… OK, maybe like a-a fifth time for everything. _ Xander had been kinda territorial since they'd first met, but she’d always kind of ignored it. She'd never wanted to hurt his feelings. Maybe that wasn't the right way to handle that, not if what he'd said to her before she'd left was any indication. “OK, I guess if it's really your own money I can't see any problems with that.” 

Spike flashed her a smile and he turned into a small side street, on the hunt for a not-quite-awful hotel to spend the next few days in. 

 

*

 

“They only had a room with two queens available, pet. Is that okay? We can go somewhere else if you want.”

 

Buffy shook herself out of her lethargy. “Why? You don't snore, do you?” Spike had an appalled look on his face, so she continued, “No, it's fine, I don't really want to be alone right now anyway. Thanks for doing this, Spike.” He patted her knee comfortingly and turned to get out of the car. “Wait-” she said with a sudden rush of realisation, and he stopped and turned to look at her again with a raised eyebrow. “Are  _ you  _ going to be ok? There's kinda going to be a lot of… Um.” She stopped, suddenly shy, and kind of embarrassed. 

“Spit it out, pet, I'm a big boy, I'm sure I can handle it.”

 

Buffy could feel the blush race up her cheeks “Blood. There's going to be a lot of blood,” she said, carefully not looking at him. 

“Oh,” he said, puzzled. “I hadn't thought of that.” He thought for a moment. “Not a fledgling, pet, can keep my fangs to myself. If it's really a problem, we can always get another room later.”

Buffy searched his face for a moment and found what she was looking for. “Ok. Let's go,” she said with a little genuine smile. 

 

*

 

The room was nice and clean, the sheets were spotless, and there was a nice TV with all the movies she could possibly think of. Nice. Very nice. Spike had good taste at least. 

“What time is your appointment tomorrow, love?” he asked as he rummaged through his duffel bag on the bed opposite her. 

Buffy meanwhile had flopped face down onto the soft comforter and was debating not moving for the next 6 hours. Unless she needed to vomit.  _ Hopefully the toilet is nice,  _ she thought idly. She was probably going to be using it quite a bit. 

“Six,” she said, face still muffled in the comforter. “AM.”

“Why so early, pet? Sun's not even-” he paused, the reason why making itself apparent in his brain. 

Buffy turned her head to look at him over the covers. He had a look on his face that said if he could have blushed, he would've. He reached back to tug on a piece of hair behind his ear. That was a reaction Buffy had never seen from him before. How strange. “Would you come with me please?” 

When he answered, his voice was rough and gravely “‘Course, pet. Don't have to ask stuff like that.”

She made eye contact with him for a long moment, and weirdly, he looked away. “You aren't so bad when you're not being an asshole, you know.”

The look of shock on his face made her laugh involuntarily. 

“Oi, you dozy bint!” he said, throwing a pair of his rolled up socks at her in outrage. “Teaches me for being nice to you, don't it?” 

Buffy rolled onto her side and snatched up the socks from where they’d bounced off her head. “You threw socks at me?” she said in amusement. “How old are you again?” She sniffed at them. “At least they're clean,” she said, shrugging and throwing them back at him. She looked down for a moment and was suddenly assaulted by a big fluffy projectile in the form of one of Spike's pillows. She looked up to see Spike standing on his bed, in bare feet, holding another pillow threateningly at her.  _ Oh, now it was on! The bleached menace wasn't going to know what hit him.  _

 

*

 

Twenty minutes later they both were laid on the floor in a tangle of limbs, gasping for breath and occasionally breaking down into hysterical laughter. Everything in the room was covered in a thin layer of white downy feathers. 

“I don't remember the last time I actually had this much fun.” Buffy sat up a little bit and looked into Spike's face. He was wearing a giant grin and looked thoroughly pooped. She tried to find some guilt about the exploded pillow and for the poor people who would have to clean up their mess, but couldn't find any. 

It was refreshing.

 

“Come on, pet,” he said, hopping to his feet and holding out his hand to her. “Let's call housekeeping and go find us some nosh while they clean this up.”

Buffy’s stomach rumbled; it was still empty from vomiting on the side of the highway. Food sounded good right about now. “Mmmm,” she said, grabbing his hand and hauling herself to her feet. “Sounds like a good idea, I'm starving!” 

Spike flashed her a smile. “Come on, Starving, let's get going. We'll tell the front desk on the way out,” he said, after failing to find the phone under the fine layer of feathers coating the room and grabbing his duster. 

“Did you just tell a dad joke?” she said incredulously. 

He winced. “Apparently.” he looked down. “Dawn thinks they're hilarious, and I guess I just didn't-”

“No, it's ok. It  _ was _ funny. I just forgot for a second.”

He looked stricken. “Buffy-” 

He was going to talk himself into a big hole if she didn't stop him. She darted forward, wrapped her arms around his waist and pushed her face into his chest.  _ Oh, this was nice. She should do this more often.  _ He stood frozen for a few seconds and then dropped his arms around her shoulders and rested his head on top of hers. He let out a deep breath and all the tension between them evaporated. 

 

_ Finally.  _

_ This felt like home.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, the next one is pretty rough.
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments, however, please be respectful.
> 
> To borrow a turn of phrase, reviews fuel the muse!  
> Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Hi All!
> 
> I think we are about two chapters away from the completion of this story, I hope you've all enjoyed it, as much as the subject matter will allow, of course.
> 
> This chapter is pretty dark, but there is some well deserved Angel bashing towards the end, if thats what happens to tickle your fancy.
> 
> Thanks for all your support, and also to my AMAZING beta Twinkles, who puts up with me at all hours and is flawless (any mistakes you see are mine, I fiddle.) with her editing.

_ "Beneath the stains of time _

_ The feelings disappear _

_ You are someone else _

_ I am still right here" _

 

Hurt, Johnny Cash.

Hurt lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd 1994

  
  
  


It wasn't until they were standing in the hotel lobby that Buffy noticed she was covered in feathers. She glared at her reflection in the mirror behind the receptionist. She punched Spike in the arm, hard. “You asshole!” 

He looked around in confusion. “What’ve I done now?” he sighed. 

Buffy gestured at her entire body, and he leered at her. 

“Wot?” he said, apparently still completely and absolutely oblivious. 

“ _ Feathers!”  _ Buffy hissed at him, gesturing to herself again and pulling a particularly large feather out of her hair to shake at him. A few people in the lobby snickered at them and Buffy shot a glare their way too. How had he not managed to get any at all? Were vampires immune to static cling? This needed further investigation.  _ Where was a balloon when she needed one? Spike would look hilarious with his hair all stuck up.  _

 

*

 

Willow was furious. How could Buffy just throw something like this away? She hadn't even heard what the prophecy was before just storming out like she owned the place or something… Which she did, but that wasn't the point. Willow paced in the Summers lounge room trying to figure out the best way to solve her problem. Buffy couldn't  _ possibly _ understand the ramifications of what she was going to do! She could be starting an apocalypse for all they knew! Giles, Tara, Anya and Xander were no help whatsoever. She'd tried to make them understand the direness of the situation, but they had all brushed it off, pooh-poohed her ideas and given her horrified looks when she said she was going to make Buffy  _ see _ , and  _ understand  _ what was going on. Giles had thrown around words like ‘unethical’ and ‘reprehensible’, but what did Giles know? He’d swanned off back to England, leaving her to do his job and finally make some tough (but much needed) decisions. Decisions that  _ he _ should have made before abandoning his slayer to an eternity of torment. This was all  _ meant  _ to happen. It was up to her.

Willow looked around; it was starting to get dark out and Dawn wasn’t home yet. Tara had a few late classes today and wouldn't be home for quite a while, and by the time Willow was finished, Tara wouldn’t remember what had happened to make Buffy throw her out. Everything would be right again.

Now, to find Dawn.

 

*

 

“What are you doing here?” The littlest Summers looked her up and down with poorly concealed irritation.

“Dawnie-” she started.

“No! You’re supposed to be Buffy’s friend and all you guys did was make her feel horrible for something that was  _ your fault. _ Buffy sent me over here to stay at Janice’s so I didn’t have to be around you guys while she was away. She kicked you out. What are you doing here?” Dawn crossed her arms and glared at her expectantly.

 

“How is any of this my fault? It’s not my fault Buffy chose not to be safe the last time she…” Willow stumbled a little bit. “You know.” She waved a hand absently.

 

“Because he wouldn’t have been able to get her pregnant in the first place if you hadn’t screwed up!” Dawn could tell by the way Willow’s metaphorical ears perked up she’d said something wrong.  _ Buffy was going to kill her. _ She gulped.

 

“You know who it is, don’t you?” Willow said staring at her with an intensity that was usually reserved for research and performing magic. 

 

Willow kind of  _ stalked _ towards her and Dawn unconsciously took a step back. “S-so what if I do?” she said, attempting to make herself look imposing, standing up straight, putting her hands on her hips and jutting out her chest. “It’s none of your business. If Buffy wanted you to know, she would have told you.”

 

There was a voice from inside; “Is everything alright, girls?”

 

Dawn stared at Willow. “It’s fine, Mrs Penshaw, Willow was just leaving.” She tilted her head pointedly towards the road and put her hand on the doorknob, ready to close it. “Goodbye, Willow.” She turned away.

 

“No, Dawn! Wait!” Willow reached forward in panic and wrapped her hand around the younger girls elbow, stopping her from leaving.

 

“Willow! No-”

 

Willow put her other hand on Dawn’s forehead. “ _ Veriverbium _ .” 

Dawns eyes clouded over and all the tension left her body. Her hand fell limply from the doorknob and dangled uselessly at her side, as did the other, which had been attempting to remove Willow’s hand from her head. She stared blankly out into space.

 

“Who is the baby’s father, Dawn?” Willow hissed.

 

_ This is so wrong, don’t answer, don’t answer, don’t answer.  _ There was a pause. “Spike.”  _ No, no, no, no. Willow, stop. Please. _

 

“ _ Spike _ is the baby’s father?” Willow said in disbelief. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“But. Spike is a vampire. He can’t get Buffy pregnant.”

 

“He can. When you resurrected Buffy you bought him back too.”

 

“Dawn?” Echoed Mrs. Penshaw from somewhere inside the house. “Are you ok?”

 

“N-” Willow rushed forward and put her hand over Dawn’s mouth.

 

“Dawn?” Mrs Penshaw called again. Footsteps started to echo down the hallway towards them.

 

“Tell her you’re ok.” Willow hissed, stepping closer again.

 

“I’m not ok, you’re making me tell the truth against my will.”

 

“Oh, yeah.” she paused. “Where are they?”

 

“She and Spike drove to L.A. this afternoon.”

 

“Ok, good.” Willow put her hand on Dawn's head again “ _ Praecantatio perago _ .” Dawn's face started to clear as her mind became her own again. Dawn's fists balled at her sides, her eyebrows furrowed and her jaw clenched in anger --Dawn wouldn't hit her? Would she? 

 

“ _ Obliviscatur _ .”

 

Dawn's eyebrows furrowed again and she shook her head. “What are you doing here?” she crossed her arms again and stared at her. 

 

“Dawn-” 

 

“No! You’re supposed to be Buffy’s friend and all you guys did was make her feel horrible-”

 

Willow looked away for a moment “No, its ok, I'll leave.You obviously don't want to talk to me-”

 

“Dawn, are you OK?” asked Mrs Penshaw from immediately behind Dawn, touching her shoulder gently. 

 

“It’s fine, Mrs Penshaw, Willow was just leaving.”

 

And with that, Willow left. 

 

*

 

“And she tried to stop you with Magic? Pet, you need to do something to protect yourself. If she's willing to try and hold you against your will, she probably wouldn't blink at trying something else.” 

 

Buffy's shoulders slumped. She hated it when Spike was right, but with the way Willow was acting, she might try exactly that. And she had actually been enjoying herself for once. They'd found a butcher for Spike and then a big, juicy, triple cheese burger for her. She felt properly full for the first time in ages. Spike had stolen some of her fries, and it had been kinda nice. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been this relaxed on a date.  _ A date? Ooh. Is this a good idea? (shut up, and stop over thinking this.)  _

 

“What do you propose I do? She's really powerful.” Buffy rubbed her temples; could this  _ get _ any more complicated? 

 

She and Spike sat in silence for a few moments. Suddenly, Spike's whole body animated. “Rebounders-” he clicked his fingers and pointed at Buffy, “come on, pet, we need to motor if we want to find a magic shop open tonight.”

 

She frowned. “What's a rebounder? And why would there be magic shops open this late at night?”

 

“Unlike old SD, most of these cater to non-humans as well. A rebounder is kind of like a magical mirror. It reflects whatever magic is cast back on the caster, and since they’re usually busy doing magic at the time they can't defend themselves.”

 

Buffy’s face lit up. “Why am I just finding out about these now? They would have been so useful all those other times.” She waved a hand.

 

Spike smiled. “But then you wouldn't have spent a delightful afternoon wiggling on my lap in front of the watcher,” he said, teasing. 

 

Buffy’s mouth popped open, and she threw a chip at him, which he caught in his mouth and grinned as he munched on it.  _ Guh, how was a girl supposed to compete with that?  _

“So it wasn't that bad, was it?” 

 

He mock glared at her. “Well, it wasn't entirely awful. You never gave my ring back though.”

 

“Well, it had Buffy all over it, I didn't think you'd want it back. Anyway, it’s

in my jewellery box at home.”

 

He stopped midway to stealing another chip. “You kept it?” 

 

Buffy looked down at the table shyly. “Well,” she said briskly, brushing her hair out of her face, “it's not every day a girl gets a marriage proposal. I thought it might end up being the only one, you know?”

 

He withdrew his hand and looked away for a moment. Buffy passed him the rest of the chips and they left. 

 

*

 

Buffy fingered the little glowing orb on the necklace she was wearing. She had her doubts that such a small thing could combat Willow's powerful magic, but the proprietor had seemed adamant, and offered free replacements or repairs if they were damaged in any way. It felt kind of warm under her fingertips, and had a subtle blue-green-purple glow that was absolutely stunning. Kind of like an opal. It was encased it a pretty little web structure of intertwined gold and silver. If she really concentrated she could feel a very faint hum coming from it. It was kind of soothing. “Thanks for doing this, Spike. Just-- I don't know what I would be doing if I hadn't had you with me for all this stuff. Probably be having myself a pity party in my crappy hotel room.” 

“No problem, pet. Now, are you ready for a little rough and tumble? I know a few places that could do with a bit of a clean up.”

 

“Ugh, I thought you would never ask.”

 

*

 

Covered in vampire dust and absolutely exhausted (emotionally and physically) they made their way back to the hotel. 

“What's the plan, pet?” Spike asked as they finally made it back to the room. 

 

“Umm, shower, bed, fall asleep to a movie or something. We gotta be up fairly early tomorrow-- er, today,” she said, glancing at the time. 

 

He nodded. “You go first, pet, I'm gonna have another snack.”

 

“Ok,” she said and grabbed her towel. 

 

*

 

Twenty minutes later, thoroughly pink from the wondrously scalding water, Buffy emerged from the shower. 

 

Spike had, for some reason, shed his duster, his shoes, and his shirt. He was laid back on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor, and his hands behind his head. Buffy had to stop and wipe the drool from her face. “See something you like, pet?” he said, opening one eye and smirking at her. 

Buffy scoffed and threw her wet towel at him. 

“Oi!” he complained as it hit him in the face, because  _ duh _ , slayer accuracy. 

“Guh, you did that on purpose, you bad vampire. Go get your dusty butt in the shower.”

 

The grin he flashed at her was down right sinful, and he took his sweet time getting up. Buffy had a front row seat to watch the way all his muscles moved deliciously under his pale skin; she was going to have to sit down before her knees gave out. She hurriedly moved to her side of the room, pinching the remote from in front of the TV on her way past. He made a show of taking a deep stiff of her towel before taking it into the bathroom with him.  _ Guh, she totally knew what he was going to do in there with that.  _ The image of him doing just that flashed through her mind and she groaned and flopped down onto her bed.

 

She'd finally settled on  _ Robin Hood, Men in Tights _ when Spike appeared from the bathroom. 

His eyebrows rose and he grinned. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “Because, unlike some other Robin Hoods, _ I  _ can speak with an English accent,” he said, speaking along with Cary Elwes. “Good choice, pet.”

 

Buffy looked at him incredulously “The big bad watches  _ Men in Tights _ ? Not very evil of you.”

 

“Pshh, it's a classic, how could I not?” He stripped off his towel, leaving Buffy absolutely gobsmacked as he nonchalantly got under the covers. 

“You- you…”

Another grin. 

 

“Yes, pet?” 

 

“Clothes- not clothes- in a hotel bed. And in front of me. Just.” Words failed her for a few moments while he grinned unrepentantly at her. “Warn a girl next time.”

 

“Why? Figure you've seen it all before, what does it matter?” 

 

Buffy made a few spluttering noises that weren't actually words. “Not all of it. Not at the same time,” she added. 

 

“Well, you've seen it all now. So that's taken care of.” 

 

Buffy growled at him and snuggled under the covers. 

 

“Good night, pet.” he said with a smile in his voice. 

 

“Night, bad vampire.” 

 

He snorted and snuggled down too. 

 

*

 

This really was the prophecy she’d found - two death/dead, creating life, and a powerful force. It was exactly it. Buffy was going to start an apocalypse if she managed to get rid of her baby. But first, Tara. 

Buffy’s spell would take slightly more finessing, and she'd have to do some double checking to make sure it was perfect. 

 

*

 

Willow smiled. Tara was back in her life again. They had cuddled, she had given her some flowers as the apology Tara wasn't even aware she needed, and life, for them at least, had gone back to normal. She looked through her notes and spell ingredients again. She was definitely missing some crow feathers and some blessed sage.  _ Damn,  _ she would have to wait for the magic box to open in the morning, it was getting late anyhow. She yawned. It was time for bed, and with a cuddly Tara to snuggle up to, she couldn't wait. 

_ Wait. What if she was too late?  _

  
  


*

  
  


With that phone call made, Willow finally slid into bed beside her beautiful girlfriend. 

She felt a little bit guilty; Angel had been absolutely furious,  _ and _ she'd carefully neglected to tell him who the father was. For being all souled up he had a  _ very  _ short fuse. Maybe she should be worried. She shook the thought away. It would all turn out, it had to. Angel would do what was necessary. 

 

It was for Buffy’s own good. 

  
  


*

 

There was a furious knocking on their hotel door. Buffy tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 4.03 am. Excellent. Who the hell was this? She hadn't wanted a wake up call. She started to unwind herself from the covers as the knocking got louder. Actually, it was more like banging now. Spike rose quickly to consciousness with a "Bloody hell, who the fuck is that?" He looked at Buffy, who shrugged. 

"SPIKE?! What the hell are you doing in there with her?" came the incensed bellow from the other side of the door. "Don't you put your filthy hands on her!" 

Spike groaned as the reality of  _ who _ exactly was on the other side of the door made itself apparent. 

"Bit late for that, don't you think?" Buffy whispered, winking at Spike and slipping on a robe over her yummy sushi pajamas. He tossed himself back on the bed and put a pillow over his face to swallow his yell of frustration. Everything had been going so well, now this Berk had turned up to stick his giant forehead in and muck stuff up. 

 

"Angel," Buffy said coldly as she opened the door. "What could you possibly want at 4.03 am on a Wednesday? Shouldn't you be asleep?" Angel ignored her and tried to push past her into the room. After a few moments of being unable to enter the room with her in the way he bellowed "Buffy! Let me in! You don't understand; whatever he's told you, he's dangerous! How could you fall for whatever lies he's told you? I thought you were smarter than that."

 

"So now you're insulting my intelligence? Gee, thanks, Angel, that's way more likely to make me trust you.  _ What do you want?"  _ she said, poking him in his big, meaty chest. ( _ Spike's was much better.) Ugh, not now!  _

 

"Buffy, I'm here to make sure that you don't make any rash decisions. I know about the prophecy. You couldn't possibly understand; Willow said you wouldn't even let her tell you about it before you just left. It's very irresponsible of you not to make sure you're doing the right thing before childishly storming off." He gave her kicked puppy dog eyes and Buffy snorted in disgust. 

 

Without looking around she said, "Spike?" 

"Yes, pet?" he said guardedly. 

"She's not your pet!" Angel spat. 

"Call the police, tell them there's a man threatening me and trying to get into our hotel room."

 

"Buffy!" Angel gasped in dismay. "You can't do that!" 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "And why not? You aren't the boss of me, Angel. Ring them please, Spike.” 

"Yes I am," he said intensely and got so close to her their noses almost touched. He stared her down for a few seconds, but the rebounder buzzed faintly on her chest and she hastily stepped back. 

"What were you doing?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. 

 

"He's done something to you, hasn't he? Did you let him bite you?" he asked, spitting fire and flicking rapidly in and out of game face. 

 

"None of your business! Get the hell out of our hotel room."

 

"You can't have her! She's mine!" he roared as Spike appeared by her elbow, shirtless. Again. 

 

"Um, excuse me,  _ She _ is standing right here. I'm mine, and I'll let myself be had by whomever I choose to give myself to." Her eyebrows furrowed.  _ Yeah, I'm sure that made sense.  _

 

"Exactly what she said, mate. I don't own her, and neither do you." He turned to her. "The police are on their way, pet."

"Ugh, thank God, I don't know how much more of this I can put up with," she said with distaste. 

 

"Buffy! What's wrong with you?" He tried to get in her face and do the staring thing again. The buzz on her chest that she'd hardly noticed till now ratcheted up. He was trying to do something to her, and that was so  _ not _ cool. She really wanted to hold the rebounder tightly to her chest for comfort, but Angel might try and take it if she drew attention to it. 

Spike looked between them calculatingly. "She's not a possession, or some prize to be won, you bastard. She's her own person."

Angel, apparently incoherent with rage, reached out and grabbed Buffy by the throat, bringing their faces so close together Buffy could smell his breath, and feel his spittle hitting her as he spoke. "MINE," he said, and crushed his face to hers in a fangy kiss. 

_ No, no, no! What the hell is wrong with him?  _ Buffy scratched at his hands around her throat, which loosened momentarily when Spike punched him in the face so hard he dislocated his jaw. With that short reprieve, and some oxygen in her lungs she let loose a slayer strength kick to Angel's balls. He howled in pain and let her go, finally. Spike winced; he was pretty sure he'd heard an awful 'pop' noise coming from Angel as he'd taken Buffy’s kick. Served the bastard right. 

 

Buffy rubbed her throat as Spike attempted to both give her some space and check her for injury. She looked down at Angel huddled in excruciating pain on the floor, slowly curling in on himself. Suddenly, from quite close by, there was a clapping noise that drew her attention. Oh no, apparently they'd drawn a small crowd in the hallway, with two uniformed police officers among them. A grey haired, twig thin elderly lady had started clapping. "That rat bastard," she said with venom, shaking a bony finger toward him. "I saw the whole thing, officers, you need to arrest that man!" she said, continuing to point at Angel's pitiful groaning ball on the floor. 

"Yes ma'am, we saw quite a lot too. We'll be taking him into custody."

"Came in here," she was saying, "harassing that lovely blond couple for no reason as far as I can tell, and she looked such a darling too all covered in feathers last night. It's not right, what has this world come to? Never would have happened back in my day, I'll tell you that much." Buffy had to smile, she'd never been defended by an 80 year old before. "Isn't that right, Raymond?" A man -, who Buffy guessed was Raymond and probably her husband - nodded along with what his probably wife was saying. She was adamantly explaining the situation to the officer that wasn't scraping Angel off the floor. It didn't seem as though Angel would be putting up much of a fight anytime soon. 

"Yelling and spouting some rot about prophecies or some such. He seems quite mad, I'm afraid." The officer nodded as he took down her statement. "And dangerous," she added as an afterthought. 

"Of course ma'am, he won't be hurting anyone anytime soon. Thank you, Mrs Hartnell, you've been most helpful."

 

*

 

It was almost 5 am by the time everyone's statements had been taken. A female police officer had taken a few photos of the scratches from Angel's fangs on her face and the slowly mottling bruising around her throat, seeing as she had declined to go to the hospital for a check up, despite the officer strongly recommending to do so. Spike had dislocated one of his fingers punching Angel's meaty jaw and had also refused medical attention; the officer had winced as he popped his finger back into place. As the last few people trickled back to their rooms the reality of what had just happened hit her. 

 

_ Would Angel have killed her for being with Spike?  _

 

Buffy suddenly found herself sitting on the edge of her bed. She wasn't sure when it had happened but it might have been the nicest thing that had happened so far today. How sad was that? 

 

"Pet." Spike said softly, kneeling in front of her. "What can I do for you?" 

 

"Why are you the only one who knows what to say?" 

 

"All your mates're too deep in denial to admit something's not quite right."

 

Buffy sighed. Now wasn't the time for an emotional break down, though she could really go for one about now. 

She brushed the tears she hadn't noticed till now out of her eyes and stood up. "My appointment’s in 45 minutes, I should get ready. I can deal with," -she waved her hand tiredly- "whatever this is when we get back." 

Spike looked her up and down for a long minute before nodding in acquiescence. "Off you pop, pet, recon you can fit a quick shower to wash all the Angelus spit off you."

 

Buffy wrinkled her nose in distaste at the thought and Spike had to bite back a laugh. 

 

*

 

"What was Angel trying to do?" she asked as they walked toward her appointment. 

They had been walking in a sort of comfortable silence since they'd left the hotel. 

"How do you mean, pet?" he said with a frown. 

 

"When he was trying to stare me down - or whatever it was he was doing - the rebounder kept going off, I mean, well, it kinda buzzed." She shrugged her shoulders. 

 

He thought for a long moment and Buffy watched a sort of horrified recognition cross his face. "Has Angelus ever taken some of your blood, pet?" 

 

Buffy got that awful feeling in her stomach that told her she'd been very remiss in not researching what could happen if a vamp sunk its teeth in her. Surely Giles should have said something? "Uh, yeah…" she said apprehensively. "Why?" 

 

"What the bloody hell for?!" he yelled. 

Buffy pointedly took a step away from him and he immediately looked contrite. "Sorry, love, I just.. What happened? I don't see you just offering him your neck on a whim."

 

"The Mayor was about to ascend senior year, Faith was doing her killer-for-hire thing and took the opportunity to shoot Angel with a poisoned arrow-"

 

"Not a lot of poisons that affect vamps, pet, what did he tell you?" 

 

Buffy scoffed and rolled her eyes at him. " _ He _ hardly said anything, he was burning up. Willow figured out he got shot with… I think it was the killer of the dead? Something like that."

 

"And then you offered him your pretty little neck, huh?" he said, trying not to sound jealous. 

 

"Seriously? I'm not brain dead. I tried to feed Faith to him, but I accidentally stabbed her and pushed her out a window into a passing truck."

 

"So how much did he take?" he said gravely, not really wanting to know the answer. 

 

"Um, almost all of it, I think."

 

"How did you not know?" 

 

"I was unconscious at the time, ok! He wouldn't stop and I passed out." She hugged herself. "I woke up in the hospital a while later."

 

"Oh," he said quietly. 

 

"Spike?" she asked, voice small and tinged with trepidation "What did he do to me?" 

  
  


*

 

"Angel, why does it not surprise me to see you here? Aren't you supposed to be helping the helpless, not," Kate looked down at the folder she was holding and flicked through it once more, "harassing and choking a small blond woman?" she asked, irritatedly tapping the folder against her leg and looking at him in disdain. 

 

"Kate?" he croaked, his mouth still swollen from fielding Spike's punch with his face. "I can explain, I just need to make a phone call. Soon, or it will be too late." 

Kate sighed and ushered him out into the corridor. 

 

*

 

This was not good. Buffy hadn't been swayed by the love of her life's plea not to go through with it, and she was probably on her way to her appointment any moment now. She had to be stopped. Willow grabbed her notes and other paraphernalia she would need to do the spell. She would just have to break into the magic box, it was the only way. 

 

*

 

It had been ridiculously easy to break into the magic box, so now Willow sat awkwardly in the small space of the shop bathroom, surrounded by everything she would need for the spell. It would make things  _ right _ . She took a sprig of Leathes Bramble from the bag beside her and put it on the tiled floor in front of her. 

"For Buffy this I char, let Lethe's Bramble do its chore. Purge her minds of memories grim, of pains from recent slights and sins, so she may fulfil the prophecy." She winced; that last part didn't rhyme nearly as well as the rest. Oh well, it should do the job. She lit the small bunch of flowers on fire and held a white crystal up to the flames. "When the fire goes out, when the crystal turns black, the spell will be cast. Tabula rasa, tabula rasa, tabula rasa." 

There was a crash from outside and the sound of a car horn blared; it didn't sound as though it was going to stop any time soon. Willow covered her ears and ran toward the front of the shop, neglecting to put out the fire in the bathroom. She got to the kerb outside the magic box to see if she could help any of the drivers in the accident, when a wave of vertigo crashed over her and she fell to the ground, unconscious. 

 

*

 

Buffy let out a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding. This place seemed much more professional than that crummy place in Sunnydale. She looked down at her intake questionnaire. Yup, much more professional, there was no mention of religion or annual salary anywhere to be seen. She filled it out gladly; finally, something was going her way. She returned it to the receptionist, who smiled kindly and bade her return to her seat to wait for the doctor, who was running about 20 minutes late, unfortunately. 

 

"You OK, love?" 

 

"Not really, but it’s a problem for later. Tell me about the Angel thing." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "We have a bit of time."

 

"Well," he started awkwardly, "what do you know about bites?" 

 

"Uh, apart from ‘don't get bitten’ and that some people are willing to pay for it? Not much."

 

He swore under his breath. "The watcher is incredibly incompetent, you know that? You should know, your the one most likely to get bitten out of all of them. Should've at least been prepared." 

 

"So tell me then," she said, crossing her arms irritatedly. 

 

"Alright pet," he said apologetically. "So, a normal bite- a feeding bite doesn't do much at all, usually because the vamp doesn't intend on letting the bugger live afterwards. If they get away somehow and the vamp still lives, he'll have a small amount of power over his victim, but very short lived. The effects would dissipate over a day or two. But with you and Angelus-" he stopped. "Are you sure you want to know, love?" 

 

Buffy nodded firmly; even though tears were threatening to fall, she needed to know. 

 

"So, with you being unconscious at the time I can only assume what he did, but with the amount of blood he must have taken, it's probably a pretty safe bet."

 

"Stop stalling and just tell me, Spike!" 

 

Spike winced, "If he wasn't sure you'd make it he could've given you some of his blood, to… Ah." 

 

"Why would he…?" Buffy looked at him in confusion. "Oh," she said, defeated. "But I survived? Am I like, his Renfield or something? Why didn't anyone say anything?" 

 

"No, but not many folks'd know, and you lot were in the middle of what sounded like an apocalypse at the time-"

 

" _Spike!_ " she hissed. "What?" 

 

He swallowed. "Gives him power over you; lets him influence your decisions, your emotions. It's probably why you haven't been able to let him go, pet, he won't let you."

 

"Buffy Summers?" A doctor, dressed in a normal business shirt and a professional looking pencil skirt, was holding a file and looking around for her. 

"Yes?" Buffy asked with sudden trepidation. 

 

"You'll be fine, pet. We'll sort this out, just like everything else." 

 

And weirdly, as with everything else lately, she believed him. She took a deep breath and followed the doctor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, please feel free to leave a like or a comment, it always helps speed up the writing process with some feedback.
> 
> Thanks as always!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Guys, It's finally here.
> 
> RL and this chapter have been absolutely whooping my ass, but it is here, it is double the length of a regular chapter and it is ready for your eyes!
> 
> All my thanks for my AMAZING beta wolf_shadoe, who I harass on a constant basis.
> 
> If the thought of all the medical stuff wiggs you out -some of which happens in this chapter- I'd advise skipping the text below the "##" hash marks.
> 
> Make sure you come back though, it isn't very long and there is lots of story that happens after that.
> 
> Also, I'm really mean to Angel in this chapter, sorry for anyone playing along at home who happens to like him.

_ "The needle tears a hole _

_ The old familiar sting _

_ Try to kill it all away _

_ But I remember everything"  _

 

Hurt, Johnny Cash, 

Songwriter: Trent Reznor

Hurt lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

  
  
  


Phil looked at the unconscious woman lying on the pavement outside The Magic Box and shook his head; people in this town had enough problems without messing with any of that stuff. 

 

He checked her over for injuries before deciding she was stable enough for now, then arranged her in the recovery position and dropped a space blanket over her to keep her warm. Unconscious patients were notorious for being unable to regulate their body temperature, and the morning was unpleasantly brisk. While there was nothing physically wrong with her, he didn't want to risk anything else happening while he was attending to the occupants of the car accident. He waved over a bystander to watch her while he radioed for another ambulance to take her. At least she hadn't been thrown from either the car or the black van. He went back to work helping cut Mrs Kowalski out of the first car and sighed - he could smell the alcohol on her breath from here. It wasn't the first time she'd made an appearance in a vehicle collision. She really should know better. 

 

*

 

A tiny, hoppy rabbit watched with twitchy interest as a red-haired woman was loaded into the back of an ambulance. It jumped as a black crystal fell from the lady's limp hand and clattered unnoticed onto the pavement. 

 

After all the people had left, the tiny rabbit hippity-hopped over and sniffled at the crystal with interest. 

A large gust of wind ruffled his fur, and made the crystal plink, plink, plink down the kerb and into the drain below. 

The rabbit twitched his tiny nose and hopped away, off on his tiny rabbit way. 

 

*

 

Xander had not been expecting a call from the hospital at 7am. Well, he'd never expected a call from the hospital before, least of all about Willow. He'd been rushing to get ready to leave when the phone had rung again. This time it was for Anya; The Magic Box had been broken into. Anya's pace had somehow outstripped his own ability to get ready, and she had taken his car, so he had ended up ordering a taxi. 

So, now he stood, watching the rise and fall of Willow's chest, willing her to wake up. She looked so tiny and fragile in the enormous hospital bed, her pale features washed out by the even more white bed sheets. 

 

Watching this happen for a second time wasn't making it any easier. 

There was a commotion in the background and Tara and Giles bustled in, Tara rushing to Willow's side. "I was so worried, she wasn't there when I woke up."

 

Xander frowned. "Why would she be there? I thought Buffy threw her out yesterday?" 

 

Tara turned away from smoothing down Willow's hair, frowning. "Why would Buffy do that?" 

 

Xander and Giles made confused eye contact. "Er- Willow attempted to use magical means to prevent Buffy from leaving Revello Drive yesterday. You appeared quite distraught at the time too."

 

"I did?" she said in obvious confusion. "Why wouldn't I remember that?" 

 

Giles, as always, took off his glasses to polish. "It appears Willow may have performed still more magic; it may well be the reason for her unconsciousness. And for the apparent gap in your memory."

 

"She wouldn't- Willow-" said Tara in disbelief, already sounding tearful. 

 

"It appears she may have, my dear." 

The trio were quiet for a few moments as a nurse bustled in to check Willow's IV. 

 

Tara looked at Giles helplessly. 

"All we can do now is research and wait for her to wake up to determine what damage she has caused," Giles said grimly. 

 

"I'll stay with her, guys, you two would have a much better idea of what to look for than I would. If her memories are affected, I've known her the longest, she's more likely to recognise me," Xander said resolutely, crossing his arms and staring at his oldest friend. 

 

"But-" said Tara, obviously not wanting to leave her girlfriend. 

 

"Xander's correct, dear. The best thing we can do for her now is to find the cause," Giles said, gently taking Tara by the arm and leading her away from her unconscious girlfriend.

Xander touched Giles' elbow as he passed, "They found her on the kerb in front of The Magic Box, near a car accident. I dunno whether it could be connected or not." 

The older man nodded, and continued out of the room. 

 

*

 

"Miss Summers," the doctor said kindly, "I'm Dr Patel." She reached out and shook Buffy’s hand. "What can I do for you this morning?" 

 

The words were stuck in her throat, but she finally managed "I- I need an abortion." She gulped. Hopefully Dr Patel wasn't one of those people like Catherine, who thought she was a monster. 

The doctor looked her up and down for a few seconds. She seemed to find what she was after and come to a decision. "Of course. We need to do a few things - blood pressure, a blood test, an ultrasound - and you'll need to sit with a counselor for a bit, to ensure you aren't being coerced into anything you don't want."

 

"I'm not," Buffy said, swallowing thickly and wincing. "If anything, I'm being coerced into keeping it. Which is why I want it gone as soon as possible."

 

Dr Patel was silent for a moment. "Do you have reason to think you might be in danger?" she said, obviously eyeing the slowly mottling bruising around Buffy's throat. 

 

"He was arrested this morning, I don't think he's going to be a problem."

 

She made a note on her clipboard "Ok."

 

*

##########

 

Dr Patel had taken her blood pressure, some blood, and directed her to a counsellor down the hall, to whom she chatted for a few minutes. As with everyone here so far, Margaret was kind, and reminded her of the grandmother she never had. Buffy could almost smell the scent of baking chocolate chip cookies on her. 

 

One cold, cold ultrasound later, the Jellybean was confirmed to be exactly where it should've been and Buffy was seated back in Dr Patel's office. 

The doctor looked over the results from her various poking and proddings and nodded, apparently satisfied. 

"Very good. Now, Miss Summers, you have two options at your stage - a surgical procedure, or a chemical abortion. Both have their drawbacks and strong points. You would need to be sedated for the surgical procedure, however-" 

 

Buffy shuddered at the thought of people touching her while she was unconscious, especially  _ there _ . "No- I don't want-"

 

"That is perfectly OK," Dr Patel said, waving away any worry with her hand. "I just needed to make you aware of your options. The medicinal procedure does take quite a bit longer unfortunately, 2 to 3 days, and I would recommend coming back tomorrow to take the remaining medication, and a follow-up with your regular GP a few days after that."

########

 

Buffy nodded along with the doctor, and was just about to ask a question when she felt a sort of… shiver around her. The rebounder on her chest flared for a moment, and then made a sickening crack noise and winked out. 

 

The doctor looked confused for a moment, but continued unaware, listing side effects she should and should not be concerned about. Fifteen minutes later, after dissolving an awful tasting tablet between her gum and cheek and booking an appointment for the following day, Buffy was allowed to go. "Just take it easy," the doctor said as she was leaving. “The next two days are going to be rough.”

 

_ No kidding. _

 

“ _ Spike! _ ” Buffy hissed as she was standing in line to pay for her appointment. “ _ Get over here!” _

“You hissed, Your Highness?” he said with a grin as he stopped beside her. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

“My necklace-thingy broke while I was sitting with Dr Patel. It's got a crack straight through the center and isn’t doing that glowy thing anymore. What do I do?” 

Her face was calm, but Spike could hear her heartbeat hammering away faster than usual, could smell the fear leaking from her pores.

Spike stared at her cleavage in disbelief for a few moments. “We take it back to the wanker that sold it to you and demand a replacement, is what we bloody well do.” He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. 

"Will you be able to come? It'll be well and truly light by the time we're finished here." She indicated the room around them. 

He smiled so brightly his eyes wrinkled in the corners. "We'll make it work, pet. Wouldn't leave you while you're all vulnerable."

Buffy smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder, waiting her turn to settle her bill.

 

*

 

Spike had been right. The clerk that examined her necklace had gone very white and stuttered something about ringing the owner. Half an hour later the owner had arrived, looking absolutely livid. Then she set about calling in two  _ other _ witches (apparently the proprietor was a fairly big hotshot in the magical community) to help mend Buffy’s rebounder and evaluate if any other damage had been done to her. Spike had taken the opportunity to ask about getting rid of Angelus' mark, and the three witches had adamantly assured them that would be  _ no _ trouble at all. 

 

Three hours later, Buffy and Spike left 'Trinkets and Tronkets' laden with a variety of items. Spike had scored himself a silver skull ring, with a swirling midnight blue - merlot red - seaweed green orb in its open jaw. 

Buffy sported a bandage on her already bruised neck, over Angel's bite. The witches had washed a bejeweled stiletto blade in holy water, sprinkled various bad smelling things over it and muttered a lot. Then they'd drawn the wickedly sharp blade over the scars on her neck. It hurt like a bitch and smoked like a vampire touching sunlight, and Spike had stepped away hurriedly and not come back until the witches had bandaged her up. Buffy had rolled her eyes extra hard in sarcasm. 

There was also a necklace for Dawn, a silver skeleton key charm with a small gold-silver-turquoise rebounder orb in the centre of the grip. And an angel aura quartz pendant for Tara, which shivered with pinks, golds, blues and silver and was looped with a bronze vine scroll.

Apparently Spike had found something for Anya. She wasn't sure what. She wasn't sure she wanted to know at this point. 

Next, Buffy hit the closest supermarket and came back with an enormous selection of chips, ice-cream, chocolate, soft drinks and lollies. And a few bags of Ring Burner chilli jerky for Spike, not that she wasn't sure he wouldn't be eating all the other stuff too, but she'd seen it and thought of him. His eyes kind of sparkled when she told him. It kinda made her eyes sparkle too. Buffy shook her head,  _ stupid hormones, _ and wiped the sparkles away.

 

They had just managed to get Spike back into the room undusty when Buffy was struck with a thought. 

"Spike? How did Angel know we were here?"

"Willow, I'll bet. I wouldn't put it past her to have done a location spell last night, before your bauble."

Buffy nodded, hugging herself. "So she calls Angel and she sends him over here to stop me." She flopped back onto her bed with a sigh. "What if she didn't though?" she asked, tilting her head back so she could watch Spike spread out their absolutely artery-blocking feast on the counter. "Tara and Giles had just chewed her out for using too much magic. What if she tried a different way first?" 

They both paused for a moment and came to the same conclusion. "Dawn!" 

"She wouldn't have done it on purpose. Willow might have done something to her." She scrambled up and grabbed the phone off the nightstand. There were feathers from last night still in the cradle as she hurriedly dialed the number for Dawn's school. She drummed her nails impatiently on the table top while she waited. 

"Hello? Hi, I need to speak to my sister, Dawn Summers and its kinda urgent-" she paused, listening. "Buffy Summers, I'm her legal guardian… yes, I'll hold." Buffy put the loud speaker on and set the handset back in the cradle. They waited for a few minutes, listening to the eerily choppy hold music in trepidation. 

" _ Hello _ ?" 

"Dawn!" 

_ "Buffy? What's wrong?" _

"I just-we thought something might have happened to you. We think Willow's been messing with people. Angel was here. Have you seen Willow?" 

Dawn was quiet for a moment.  _ "I saw her yesterday, but I told her that she was a bad friend and to go away, and she left." _

"Did anything weird happen?" 

_ "I felt… all wiggy for a second… Then… I think… the lady walking her dog across the street was just kinda… gone." _

"Dawnie-" 

_ "W-what did she do to me? Buffy?"  _

"We're going to find out right now, Bit." 

"We'll call you as soon as we know, okay, Dawnie?" 

" _ O-okay _ ." there was a sniffle from down the phone line. " _ I love you two, ok? Don't die." _

"We're trying our best, Nibblet, love you too." Spike's eyes were doing the sparkly thing again. 

"Love you too, Dawnie." There was a clunk of Dawn putting the receiver down and the line went dead.

"The Magic Box?" Buffy asked, looking at Spike, who nodded. 

"Good a place to start as any."

 

The duo waited impatiently as the phone of The Magic Box rang out three separate times. Buffy glanced worriedly at Spike before plugging in the number for Revello. 

 

_ "Hello, Summers residence, Rupert speaking." _

 

"What the hell has Willow done to my sister, Giles?" Buffy almost yelled down the phone line. Spike made an effort to calm her down with another awkward shoulder pat. 

 

_ "Er, Buffy? I was unaware of any problems with Dawn, what are you talking about?"  _

 

"First she sends Angel over here and he almost strangles me to death because Willow has him convinced that I'm going to end the world. Then I find out Dawn saw her yesterday and is suspiciously missing time.  _ Then  _ she tries to cast something else on me so powerful it breaks the rebounder that I was wearing. What the hell is going on there!" Spike attempted shoulder pats again, and Buffy shot him an irritated look. He snatched back his hand like he was afraid she was going to bite. Who knew? Maybe she was. Buffy was hella pissed. 

 

_ "Well," hedged Giles, "Willow was found unconscious outside The Magic Box this morning, and is yet to regain consciousness. It appears that Tara's memories have been altered as well. She does not remember the argument that occurred yesterday in which Willow attempted to bespell you, or you subsequently kicking her out." _ He cleared his throat,  _ "Tara and myself are currently searching for any evidence of Willow's spell work in your house. We have only just begun, unfortunately, as we have just arrived back from seeing her at the hospital."  _ There was an awkward silence.  _ "I shall endeavour to find out what happened to Dawn also." _

 

"You'd better. I died for her, Giles, what do you think I'd be willing to do to Willow when I get back home? You're supposed to be the one with all the experience of being the big bad warlock or whatever. Do  _ something _ !" she snapped, jabbing the end call button on the phone and bursting into tears on Spike's very surprised shoulder. 

 

*

 

"Oz?" she whispered. She cleared her throat and tried again a bit louder, "Oz?" 

Xander was roused from his nap. He blinked himself the rest of the way awake. "Wills?" he said gently, feeling a strange sense of deja vu. "How you doing?" 

"Hi," Willow said weakly. "Where's Oz? Is he ok?" 

Xander frowned. "As far as I know he is. I think he's back off in Tibet somewhere."

Willow's eyes became huge in panic. "What? Why?" 

"I think… I think I need to ring Giles, Wills, this conversation smacks of deja vu."

"Is he ok? Because, b-because Angelus and Drusilla attacked the library! Oh no! C-can you go and get the spell ingredients for the curse? We have to help Buffy!" Willow was working herself up into a panic, all waving hands and huge, glassy eyes. 

 

Xander sat down hard on the edge of Willow's bed. "The curse? Willow, what year do you think it is?" 

 

"Um, Xander," she said, eyebrows furrowed, "it's 1998." She searched his face. "Or… it's not? When  _ is _ it?" 

 

"It's 2001. Look, I really need to call Giles. We'll have this all sorted soon, Wills, promise." Xander jumped off the bed and strode toward the phone on the side table as Willow's face crumpled. He reached out and grabbed her hand firmly, stuck the phone between his shoulder and ear and dialed with the other. 

  
  


*

 

Buffy had finally fallen asleep, though how she had done so was really starting to freak him out. The slayer crying herself to sleep on his chest had not been covered in any manual or book that he knew of, and he wasn't sure whether he should move. Whether that was so she didn't stake him when she woke, to leave her there so she did, or maybe so they could have a cuddle when she woke up, was beyond him.  _ Christ, he was such a sap. If only his minions could see him now, he'd probably have to stake himself on principle. How did his bloody unlife get so complicated?  _

His decision was made for him as he heard her heartbeat speed back up and her body start to animate again. 

He hesitantly passed his hand over her hair as her eyelids started to open. "Hey, pet, how are you doing? Need anything?" 

 

She blinked a few times and stretched, coming back to consciousness. Then her whole body suddenly tensed. "Um," she said, turning bright red. "S-sorry about the cryingness and the er… um… drooling...ness," she said, sitting up awkwardly and discreetly trying to wipe her mouth. 

The expression on his face changed quickly from trepidation to a smirk. "Well, pet, it wasn't  _ quite _ what I had in mind when I imagined you drooling over me, but I'll take what I can get."

She gave him an embarrassed but playful shrug and sat up, looking puzzled for a moment. 

"Pet?" he asked quietly, touching her shoulder. 

"I haven't had any dreams since I left Sunnydale."

He frowned. "Dreams?" he asked, sitting up. 

"Nightmares," Buffy amended with a shudder. "About coming back. Being trapped." She curled herself up in a ball and hugged her knees to her chest, getting lost. 

"Buffy," Spike said softly, patting her leg, "you're above ground now, pet, don't go back there now you're out."

 

"You won't let them bring me back again, will you?" 

God, how he wanted to hurt the scoobies for what they'd done to her. Impotent rage at the thoughtless destruction of heaven when they'd dragged her out rose in him. It was unforgettable, unforgivable. But she still put up with them regardless, because they knew, they were on the inside, and making connections with people on the outside was risky and scary. "No. Never again, love." 

She nodded mutely and rested her head on her knees again. "Thank you." It was so quiet he barely caught it, even with his hearing. 

"No worries, pet." After a few moments he leaned back against the headboard. "Want to watch another movie, love?" 

Buffy pursed her lips. "Yeah, you find something to watch, I'm going to take some painkillers, shower, and then we can start on the feast we've got over there." She waved to the obscene amount of junk food. "Is that ok?" 

He smiled. "Sounds perfect, pet. I'll grab my lunch while you're havin' a wash."

"Ok… Um, is my towel in there?" she asked, blushing a little bit.

He smirked. "Yeah, should be all dry by now, I hung it up for you last night." 

_ Aww, hot and picks up after himself, yummy!  _

"Uh, thanks," she said awkwardly, haphazardly looking through her bag for a change of clothes that didn't smell like funky herbs and have mascara (or feathers) all over them. 

 

*

 

"I rang the Nibblet, she says she'll be ok until we get home tomorrow night. I might've also promised her pizza, but that's neither here nor there." Spike waved a hand; pizza was his shout, apparently. 

She sighed in relief. Why couldn't Riley have been this thoughtful?  _ Because he's an insecure asshole, that's why,  _ said the little voice in the back of her head. Stupid little voice, why was it always so annoying and right? 

"Thanks," Buffy said, swiping a bag of chips and a block of chocolate from the counter on her way to bed. "I'll call her before we go out to patrol. What are we going to watch?" 

"How's about  _ Austin Powers  _ one and two?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, pointing the remote toward the TV. 

"Ooh," said Buffy, climbing onto her bed and getting comfortable. "I haven't seen number two. I wonder if it's as good as the first one?" 

"Oh, pet," Spike said, leaning back against the headboard and sticking some jerky in his mouth. _ How did he make that look sexy? Jerky was  _ **_not_ ** _ sexy! _ "Nothing beats the first one. Second is still pretty good though, has time travel and everything."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "We'll see, buster. I'm holding you responsible if it isn't." 

He snorted, and rolling his eyes, pointed the remote at the TV. 

 

They had been sitting, watching in silence, for about twenty minutes, when Austin and Vanessa made it to the jet. Buffy watched Spike out the corner of her eye as his head flicked between her and the TV.  _ What was he going to do?  _ Buffy shook her head and went back to watching the movie. 

Suddenly, there was a vampire on her lap. Spike had leapt from one bed to the other in the space of a moment and had the strangest look in his eyes. He was lying on his side, one hand propping up his head. 

"Do I make you horny?" he said, wagging an eyebrow, sporting a ridiculous grin. "Randy? Do I make you horny, baby, yeah, do I?" He finished in a rush to keep time with the characters on screen, and it was all Buffy could do not to wet herself with laughter. He finished off the performance by laughing so hard he fell off her bed and onto the floor with a half yell and a thunk. 

Buffy crawled over to the edge of her bed, still laughing, and tears streaming down her face to check on him. Besides looking a bit embarrassed, her vampire seemed alright.  _ Wait, her vampire?  _

"Oh my God, Spike, are you ok?" she said, a little freaked by the voices arguing in her head. 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, "Just my pride, Slayer. Just my pride."

She grinned down at him. "Well, if that's all then…" she extended a hand to help him off the floor. He rolled his eyes at her and grabbed her hand, but instead of getting up, he yanked her off the bed and onto the floor with him. "Spike!" she squealed, landing on him and very nearly kneeing him in the groin. "What are you doing?" 

 

"Getting in to the spirit of the movie, pet," he said with a smirk. 

Suddenly she was underneath him. His pupils were dilated, and she was pretty sure the amount of lust written all over his face had never been aimed her way by anyone else before. No one looked at her like Spike did. "A-Austin," she squeaked, "this is h-highly inappropriate."  _ That sounded like something Vanessa would say, right?  _

Spike's eyes dropped to her lips, and he stared at them for a few moments. He shook himself, suddenly looking sheepish. "Sorry, pet, got a bit carried away." He got to his feet and helped her off the floor. 

They both stared at each other in strained silence. 

"Um, well, apparently we're back to being awkward again." Buffy attempted to lighten the mood, only for it to fall flat. 

 

**_"And look what you've done to Mr Bigglesworth!"_ ** shouted Dr Evil from the television. The camera pulled back to reveal a completely hairless cat, looking incredibly sullen. 

 

"Oh my God," said Buffy in shock, "I forgot about the cat," and burst into laughter. 

 

*

 

"That Scott Evil guy looked a lot like Oz, don't you think?" Buffy twirled her stake. She'd never patrolled on this side of LA before; it was new and interesting. 

Spike nodded. "Right weird, that. Kid's got a doppelganger, or he's leading a double life, or some such.” He pointed with his stake further into the industrial area they were on the outskirts of. “Think there's something up ahead, pet."

 

"Ooh, something to punch?" She smiled, bouncing on her toes. "Lemme at em!" She threw a few air punches in excitement. 

Spike snorted, but followed after Buffy as she took off at a jog. 

 

"Woah, and I thought you liked destroying things." Buffy had stopped a ways away from a sparking power pylon that had a bunch of feral fledglings tearing into it with teeth and claws. 

"Not too bright, are they?" he observed disdainfully. 

 

"Oi! Who are you calling stupid, punk?" yelled a yellow-eyed fledge in a powder blue suit. 

Buffy turned to Spike. "He called you a punk." She shook her head. "Some fledglings have no respect."

 

"Hey, boys! Blondie brought lunch with him!" 

A few other fledges turned away from their destruction of public property to focus instead on the tasty snack in their midst.

"Dibs!" called one or two of them as they stalked towards where Buffy and Spike were standing. "No! I saw her first! She's mine!" growled the first fledge. 

"So what's with the destruction of one of mankind's most convenient achievements, guys?" 

 

" _ I  _ called dibs, Jeffery, don't make me go over the rules again."

"Rules are for pussies,  _ Simon.  _ God, why did I even turn you? You're such a disappointment." 

 

Spike watched the interplay with a raised eyebrow. "Exactly my thoughts, Slayer. Who turns idiots like you twats, anyway?" 

 

"Er..." said the powder blue suit wearing flege, who so far didn’t have a name. "Short, blond, bitchy attitude." His forehead wrinkled in thought. "Fat. Had a gun. Didn't get a name." He grinned and continued towards them, hopping the waist high fence. 

 

Buffy frowned. "There's fat vampires?" 

 

Spike shrugged. 

 

"She wasn't fat! She was pregnant!" yelled a female vampire from the back of the pylon. 

 

Blue suit scoffed. "Who's ever heard of a pregnant vampire? No one, that's who."

 

"How lazy does a vamp gotta be to stoop so low as to use a gun? No standards these days, I tell you." Spike said with disdain.

 

Buffy shrugged. "Darla tried to shoot me."

 

Spike rolled his eyes. "Bloody bitch. Can't believe somebody bought the old whore back."

 

"They  _ what? _ " said Buffy in disbelief. "When was this?" 

The vamp in the powder blue suit launched himself at Buffy, assuming that she was the easiest prey. 

The look of surprise on his face as he dusted was comical, and Spike had to stifle a grin. 

Then he remembered exactly  _ when _ he had found out. He tugged the back of his hair in nervousness. "Ah," he said. "Around the time of the…" he paused. Bugger, he should've kept his trap shut. 

"Yes?" prompted Buffy with a raised eyebrow. 

"The, ah, chain incident. With the visit from Dru." He did the hair tug thing again, and Buffy had to stop herself from being all mushy and cooing over him. The big bad would definitely hate that. Besides, she was still kinda miffed about the whole chaining her up thing. "She said something about grandmummy being her daughter, or some such rot."

 

"Hey!" yelled one of the fledges, apparently having taken this long to comprehend that one of his fangy friends had bitten the dust. "That bitch killed Jerry!" 

 

"Hey! Watch who you're calling names, buddy!" said Buffy as she threw herself into the fray. Spike grinned and jumped in after her. 

 

The fight was over almost before it began; all the fledges bar blue suit had been less than a week old, and even he wouldn’t have been much older than that. Unfortunately, during the fight Buffy had taken a claw along her abdomen. It wasn't very deep, but Spike insisted he look at it anyway, and  _ boy _ did that make her feel all fluttery inside. He wasn't fussing over her, and he wasn't vamping out, even with her blood on his fingertips. She'd never given him much credit for his self-restraint before, but this was amazing. Angel could never be this calm around her, not with a wound like this. He'd even avoided her while she'd been on her period.  _ That  _ had taken ages for her virginal teenage self to figure out. Spike didn't seem to care either way. Buffy looked down at him. He was on his knees in front of her while she leant on the fence next to the power thingy. She'd pulled up her shirt a little so he could look properly. "Why isn't my blood making you all grr?" She clawed her fingers at him, and he looked up at her with a hurt expression, then rolled his eyes.

 

"Because, unlike a certain brooding asshole, I have a modicum of self-restraint." He sighed and pulled a handkerchief out of his duster to daub at her wound. "And anyhow, you don't smell like food, haven't for ages now."

 

"Sorry, I really haven't given you much credit, have I?" she sighed. "It was just… so hard with Angel in my head all the time. Now he's gone, it feels like, like, I've been trapped under a ton of feathers and didn't even know it, and now they're just all... gone, and I can breathe without getting a lung full of feathers."

 

His brow crinkled. "Why feathers?" 

 

She frowned too. "Because they're soft and fluffy, and if you try and push them away they squish and kinda feel like they're out of the way, then when you take your hand back they all just poof up again and you're just as trapped as before." She shook her head again. "Angel couldn't even be near me while I was on my period. And it doesn't even seem to phase you."

 

"Well, can't deny you smell delicious, at all times of the month," his voice got all low and gravely, and Buffy shivered involuntarily. "But I'd much rather-" 

 

_ " _ **_Spike! You son of a bitch! Get your filthy hands off her!_ ** _ " _ screamed an outraged voice in the distance. 

 

"Are you sodding serious?" He handed the handkerchief to Buffy, who placed it back on the cut on her stomach. Spike groaned and stood up. "And you've bought the rest of the fang gang with you too. Excellent. Just what I was looking forward to."

Buffy looked up to see Angel, Wesley and a few others she didn't know standing about fifty metres away. Wesley looked concerned, but Angel? Angel looked downright demented. The veins stood up on his neck, his eyes bulged from his sockets, and spittle flew all over when he spoke. 

"I told you not to touch what's mine,  _ boy _ ," he said with a disgusted sneer. 

Wesley frowned, looking from Buffy to Angel in confusion. 

 

"I told you, Angel, I don't belong to you, you asshole. I belong to me." She looked at Angel -no,  _ Angelus _ , she was getting the idea they were one and the same- in distaste. "If you think I want you anywhere near me, not only after what you did to me this morning, but after what you did to me while I was trying to save your life when Faith shot you, you’re seriously deluded." Buffy was livid, her grip on her stake so hard he could hear it starting to splinter. 

 

"What happened this morning, Angel? You assured us that it was a simple misunderstanding. It seems to have been a great deal more than that," asked Wesley evenly, apparently entirely oblivious to his employer's current mental state. 

 

Angel spun around and grabbed Wesley by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him in so close their noses almost touched. " _ None _ of your business. This is between me and Spike. He's trying to take what was promised to  _ me _ ," he spat.

 

“What we had was  _ not _ an arranged marriage, or whatever your sick brain has come up with. I don't belong to  _ anyone, especially _ you!”

 

“Angel, dude, you need to calm down, you’re throttling Wes,” pointed out a dark-skinned man that Buffy hadn’t noticed.

“Stay out of this, Gunn, this doesn’t concern you.” Angel shoved him away with an elbow and he stumbled backwards.

 

“Have you taken leave of your senses? Let me go.” How Wesley managed to say the words with such calmness while being throttled was completely beyond Buffy; Angel surely would've had at least a broken kneecap by now if it had been her.

Buffy stuffed Spike’s handkerchief into her back pocket and started to walk towards the current bane of her existence and her ex-watcher. She grinned; suddenly she was looking forward to having an actual fight. 

“Angel,” Buffy said evenly, now standing in front of him. “Put Wesley down.” Angel ignored her and continued to growl threateningly at Wesley. “Angel,” Buffy repeated, calmly removing Angel’s index finger from Wesley’s lapel with a very visceral cracking noise. “Let. Wesley. Go.”

Angel snarled and dropped Wes on his ass, turning to face Buffy, who still hadn’t released his finger. 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Are you done?" Angel snarled again and lunged for her. "Guess that's a no then."

Buffy ducked under his backhanded blow and kicked at his knee, and he crumpled for a moment. She took the opportunity to grab his opposite hand and wrench back his other index finger. It too made a satisfying crack noise, and Buffy saw Gunn and Wesley wince out of the corner of her eye. Angel let out a furious roar. Wes had staggered back to his feet and was holding a stake ready.  _ There was the guy she knew had been in there somewhere.  _ Wes had apparently managed to grow a spine while he'd been absent. Gunn, however, appeared to be frozen. 

Her moment of distraction cost her, as Angel (Angelus?) sent her flying backwards with a push kick to her chest, into the fence in front of the pylon, knocking it over. She groaned and started to get up, sliding another stake from her pocket into her hand. It was a rookie mistake; Angel knew how she fought (better than that). But, she'd beaten him once before and sent him to hell, so she could just do it again. Right? 

There was an inhuman howl from beside her as a black and white blur threw itself at Angel.  _ What the hey?  _ Spike was stealing her fight. There was a crunching noise and another roar of pain. 

OK, so maybe Spike had a few issues that he needed to work out on Angel. 

"You fecking tosser! She trusted you! Tried to save your worthless hide, you sick bastard. And you couldn't keep your fangs to yourself?" Spike kicked him hard in the stomach with a steel cap and Angel coughed up blood. "Don't have power over her any more, pillock, got rid of the mesmer you had on her, girl's mind is her own now.  _ Now _ , you get to see what she's really capable of, without your words festering in her brain." He spat. "I hope it hurts, you tosser."

Angel lay motionless on the ground after a particularly vicious uppercut, and Spike put the boot in again for good measure. 

"Well," said Buffy, coming to stand beside Spike. "that was underwhelming.” She sighed. “What an anticlimax, I was kinda looking forward to a good fight."

“Well, pet, you learn to live with disappointment around peaches.” Spike looked down in disgust at his grandsire.

“Buffy, I’m afraid I don’t understand, what has Angel done?” weazed Wesley from beside them.

Buffy pointed at the bruising on her throat. “He did this to me this morning, because he didn’t like the idea of Spike and I being in the same hotel room, no matter if we slept in different beds.” 

Wesley took a moment to examine her throat, “And this?” he said, fingers fluttering around the bandage on her throat, “Did he bite you again?”

Buffy shook her head. “No, when he bit me when I saved him from the poison Faith shot him full of, we think he gave me some of his blood while I was unconscious.”

“But.. you aren't…?” asked Wes in bewilderment.

Buffy crossed her arms. “No, I’m not. But it let him influence me without my knowledge. But the…" she looked at Spike, "mesmer?" he nodded. "It’s gone now, and he won’t be getting his fangs anywhere near me, ever again.” She let go of a deep breath. “I feel like I can breathe again, like something’s been sitting on my chest and I was just so used to it that it felt normal.”

“Very well.” Wesley looked grim. “I suppose we should take him…” Wes looked at Gunn, who had unfrozen and was looking at Angel like he had no idea who he was. Both men bent down to pick him up, and as they got him to an almost standing position he suddenly animated, springing towards Spike and knocking him into the power pylon behind them with a bellowing roar.

Buffy watched in shock as Spike convulsed, crackling with electricity, and started to smoke.

It stopped as abruptly as it began; the whining of the generator shut off, and Spike slid, charred, down to the ground and lay there limply. Unmoving. 

_ He wasn’t dust. _

“You bastard!” Buffy swung blindly, raging, and suddenly Angel was beneath her, and there was a stake plunging towards his heart. There was a yell of protest from nearby, but it didn’t matter. Blood bubbled up around the wooden stake and she kicked it further into Angelus’ meaty chest, feeling it grate against bone. “Don’t come near me again,” she hissed. “I won't miss next time.” She pushed herself away from Angel in disgust and ran towards Spike. He was covered in blisters and burns, but he was  _ alive. _ Or undead. Whatever, he wasn’t gone, and that's what mattered. Her vision was fuzzy and she rubbed at her eyes; when had she started crying? Buffy grabbed at his shirt and it disintegrated in her hands. She looked down at him in horror. She’d almost lost him. She had to get him away from here, away from Angel. Fill him full of blood and painkillers. She’d look after him for once. She could do this, she was  **_The_ ** Slayer, damn it. She wiped her eyes again and bent to pick Spike up. He didn’t so much as whimper. 

_ She couldn’t lose him, she’d only just found him. _

“Buffy-” said a voice from nearby.

“ _ You don’t touch him! _ ” she almost screamed, dragging Spike away from whoever it was. She was pretty sure this was what hysterical felt like; she just needed to get away.  _ Why was everything so screwed up? She’d been having fun twenty minutes ago. _

“-get him back to your hotel-” the voice was saying, softly, like someone speaking to a cornered animal. “-can clean him up there.” Finally the soft English accent penetrated, and she registered Wesley standing there calmly, waiting for her permission to help Spike. Buffy nodded cautiously and Wes dipped his head under Spikes’ arm to help her carry him.

 

“Thank you, Wes.”

He smiled. “Anything, Miss Summers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! It's over for another chapter. I've started on the next one already! Promise!!
> 
> Don't lose hope.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Hi everyone!  
> Long-time no see, RL has been such a pain and I actually finished this chapter a week or so ago but so much has been happening it kind of slipped my mind.   
> Anyway, with no further ado and many thanks to Wolf_shadoe as usual, please enjoy!

_ “I wear this crown of thorns _

_ Upon my liars chair _

_ Full of broken thoughts _

_ I cannot repair” _

 

Hurt, Johnny Cash, 

Songwriter: Trent Reznor

Hurt lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

  
  


"Mr Mears, good to see you're finally awake." A beefy orderly shuffled around the stark white hospital room, mostly out of sight. "We were starting to wonder if you ever would be." 

The orderly’s kindly face hove into view, directly above his, and he tried to flinch away. His whole body lit with pain and he gasped for breath. The beeping on the monitor next to him blared loudly in his ears.  _ He was trapped!  _

"Mr Mears, please calm down. I'll organise some more pain medication for you, but you need to calm down."

The frantic beeping on the monitor next to him tapered off, and the orderly smiled and pressed the call button above his head. "What is the last thing you remember, Mr Mears?" 

 

"Crashed... stupid bitch…" he took a deep, rasping breath which hurt everywhere, "-pulled in front… cut us off." 

The orderly nodded, and chided him for swearing. 

There was a commotion out of his field of view, and a woman in a white doctors coat, followed by two police officers, appeared next to him. 

"Mr Mears, good to see you're awake. I'm Dr Ayanami, I'll be overseeing your recovery." She smiled and leaned out of his line of sight to fiddle with a machine. A rush of cold washed over him and the pain receded; Warren let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. 

"How is your pain now?" 

"Better," he rasped. 

"Very good. These officers just need to ask you a few questions about the accident. I'll be back soon to discuss your treatment." The doctor nodded, then she and the orderly left the room. 

 

"Mr Mears, we need to inform you that your companion Jonathan Levinson was killed in the accident that you were involved in. Mr Wells is comatose." The officer cleared his throat. "We need to speak to you about the illegal surveillance equipment that was found in your van, the wiretapping of a private residence on Revello Drive, as well as the unlawful hidden video cameras placed on private property, including Revello Drive and a private business-" the officer paused and looked at his colleague, who nodded- "The Magic Box. We are still compiling evidence, however, we conducted a search of your premises and found Miss Silber being held against her will. Judge Harmon has ordered that you be remanded into police custody as soon as your condition stabilises." He cleared his throat, and his companion strode to the door, standing at ease beside it. "You will be placed under twenty-four hour guard until Dr Ayanami declares you stable enough for transfer." The officer produced a notebook and a pen. "Do you have anything to say?" 

Warren shook his head, even though it hurt like hell. 

"Very well." He snapped his notepad closed, turned on his heel, nodded to his companion and left the room. 

"Fuck." __

_ He was going to kill that blond bitch if it was the last thing he did.  _

 

*

 

"I don't think Giles is going to stay." Buffy whispered. She and Wesley had managed to get Spike back into their hotel room, and he was currently lying in the bathtub soaking in lukewarm water. Buffy had managed to get his duster, boots and socks off, but there were large parts of his jeans glued to his legs with… She didn't want to think about that. Wes had suggested the bath, and lacking any better ideas, they had both manhandled him into the tub. 

Buffy felt a pang.  _ Well… at least he wasn't chained up this time.  _ She had also managed to dissolve a few of the prescription painkillers Dr Patel had given her in some blood. Wes had been fascinated and also a bit squicked out when Spike’s demon had come to the fore while she was trying to get him to swallow his blood, then immediately disappeared after she was finished. There had been a thin layer of grey scum floating on top of the bath water that only got worse as she washed him down.  She'd only just made it to the toilet beside her as she figured out what it was. It was dust,  _ vampire  _ dust. He'd come even closer than she realised to leaving her. Life was never going to be easy for them, was it? 

Buffy decided that, rather than submerging his whole body, including his poor burned face underwater (and wouldn't waking up like that be super traumatising?), she'd put a damp towel over the worst burns on his face. 

 

"What makes you feel that way?" asked Wesley, concerned, tearing her away from her thoughts. 

Buffy’s shoulders slumped, and she stared at her hands. "He tried to do it before- when I started at UC Sunnydale. Willow told me he had plane tickets booked and everything, he was just working on digitising his book collection so we would still have all of the resources we needed. Never mind at that time Willow had no idea about magic and none of us could read sumarian or whatever." She sighed. Wesley looked angry, his face hard, eyebrows furrowed and lips drawn into a thin line. "Then, after I died, he left the hellmouth to the care of an overactive vampire, two college students and a construction worker and went back to England."

Buffy leaned forward to check on Spike in the bathroom; he hadn't moved. "He hasn't found anywhere to stay, hasn't sent for the books he took to England with him or any of his other stuff. He's been back six weeks and he's been staying in a hotel the entire time. Every time I bring up what's going to happen in a few weeks, he makes non-committal noises and changes the subject."

Wesley was quiet for a moment. "That utter wanker. It does seem as though he plans on leaving, and to leave you with no support - especially after your ordeal in hell-" 

"Heaven, I was in heaven. They ripped me out." Buffy looked down at her hands again, little droplets of moisture making a dull noise as they fell on her palms. "I thought he was family." Buffy saw Wesley’s fingers clench out of the corner of her eye, and he made a disgruntled, angry noise. "I was done, h-" she choked and cleared the lump in her throat. "Happy. No more violence, no more pain, no more lonely nights patrolling graveyards by myself. No more wondering if it was really all worth it, if there was a point in keeping going."

"Miss Summers-" 

"Wes, just call me Buffy, we're at least familiar enough for that."

He swallowed. "Buffy, I'm so-" he paused, searching for an adequate word, but there didn't seem to be any, "-sorry." He shrugged. 

"I'm pretty sure Willow's spent all mom's life insurance, and hasn't bothered paying anything - the mortgage, the electricity bills - everything’s on final notice. That money was supposed to last Dawn and I until I finished college, and it's just… gone. I have no idea where."

Wesley made an angry, choking noise. "I dare say they expect you to buck up and fix their mistakes, regardless of your ability to do so. I assume Willow moved into Revello to care for your sister when you were gone?” Buffy nodded. “And now you’re back she has continued to neglect such things as paying rent for her accommodations?”

“She doesn’t pay for anything, no groceries, rent. She even sneaks into the bathroom Dawn and I share and steals our toilet paper and tampons when she runs out.”

“Selfish child,” he spat in disgust. “What do you need?” he asked gently, a few moments later.

“Why is it that you and Spike are the only ones who’ve asked that since I’ve come back?”

Wes leaned forward in disbelief to peer at the vampire in the bathtub. " _ That _ Spike? William the Bloody?" 

Buffy nodded and bit her lip. "He loves me. He took torture from a hellgod to protect my sister. He was such a mess. He looked after Dawn for the three months that I was dead. He didn't know the guys were going to bring me back. Helped keep the guys alive on patrol while I was gone, even though they all treated him like dirt."

"He sounds quite an uncommon vampire," he said after a pause. 

Buffy laughed a snuffly sort of half laugh and nodded. "I don't think Spike is going to be able to come with me to my doctors appointment tomorrow. Do you think-" She took a breath; this asking for help thing was both easier and harder than she’d thought, and wasn't it weird she suddenly felt like she could trust Wesley? "Do you think that you'd be able to come with me? I just- I want- you don't need to come in, just- could you sit in the waiting room with me, please?" 

Wesley’s face softened. "Of course, miss- er, Buffy. I would like nothing more than to help. Speaking of, whatever your relationship with them at the moment, why isn't Willow or Giles accompanying you, rather than Spike?" 

Buffy looked at him for a long moment. "Because he's the father." She kept her face carefully blank, waiting for his reaction. "And he's the only one who asked if I needed help. It happened before I jumped; when Willow resurrected me she bought  _ all _ of me back, including some cells that weren't mine. Some of his."

"Remarkable," Wes said in wonder. 

_ Well, that hadn't really been the reaction she was expecting, but she’d take it.  _

"Sorry, my dear, that must have seemed a rather callous- but, just, a- a child fathered by a vampire? It's completely unprecedented."

"I know, but I can't keep it, it'll end up getting me or my-" she paused - Tara and Anya seemed to be on her side still, "friends killed. Then who's going to save the world?" she said tiredly.

His breathing hitched for a moment and he reached for her hand. "Miss- Buffy, I'm- I'm sorry. It seems such an inadequate word. This must be incredibly difficult for you."

She nodded jerkily. "Do you think- is there anyone that could sit with Spike while I'm gone? Preferably someone who won't stake him?" She leaned forward to check on him again. "I don't want him to be alone if he wakes up, but I really need to go to my appointment."

Wesley smiled. "I think I know just the person."

 

*

 

Willow hadn't realised Giles could be so… cold, so… detached… business-like, so disappointingly  _ British.  _ It was almost as though he wasn't talking to her, to  _ Willow _ , who he'd been at least friendly to since just before Buffy had come to Sunnydale. He spoke to her like a stranger. A stranger that was in very, very deep trouble. Who had apparently messed with people's memories and brought Buffy back from the dead. Oh, and had apparently had a hand in getting her pregnant too, although she wasn't quite clear on how  _ exactly  _ that had happened. Future-Willow (because apparently this was the future - not that she'd seen any evidence so far) seemed like a not very nice person. She went through the bag of personal possessions that she had been found with. There was a university ID, drivers licence, some receipts, and, at the very bottom, two black crystals on a ribbon. Some scary lady named Anya - who was apparently dating Xander -  _ weird -  _ had demanded she pay for them and the repairs to The Magic Box. Future Willow had apparently lit a fire in the employee bathroom and almost burned the place down. Was she a pyromaniac in the future? That didn't sound like her, although the her she currently was wouldn't have bought Buffy back from the dead and erased her friend Tara's and Buffy's little sisters memories. Xander was yet to elaborate on why the shy blond girl that had shuffled into the room with Giles had been so upset. Maybe they were roommates or something? Or best friends? That would explain a lot. Or would it? 

_ Wait _ . When exactly  _ did  _ Buffy get a little sister? 

A nurse bustled in, straightening things and arranging the IV pole that she was still connected to for some reason. The crystals slipped from Willow’s still-clumsy fingers to the floor. Willow bent down to pick them up, just as the nurse appeared around the same side of the bed with a crunch. The nurse (Lauren, or so said her name tag - everything seemed suspicious now) let out a little gasp and apologised, offering to replace them for her. After assuring her that it was fine (not that she knew what they were for anyway), the nurse  -looking somewhat less stressed- thanked her and hurriedly left, a blaring alarm in the main foyer calling her away. 

 

*

 

Buffy had fielded a call from someone named Fred - a nervous lady with a Texan accent, apparently looking for Wesley. And, ' _ was he being strange or acting violent towards her?' _ to which she had said  _ 'no'  _ explicitly and handed the phone to Wes, who spent a few minutes calming her down enough to find out what was happening. Something about blood, and Gunn, and him being nasty, crazy and attacking her. 

 

Wesley had apologised for cutting their discussion short, and assured her he would be there at the crack of Oh-God-why-the-hell-am-I-awake-thirty with someone to keep Spike company, and to accompany her to her appointment. She told him she understood, and that if there was anyone that required their butts being kicked he was welcome to send them her way. He smiled and reiterated (to Fred) that no, he hadn’t touched any blood, and was not feeling particularly misogynistic right now -he coughed- or ever, for that matter.

He apologised again and handed Buffy the phone, after hanging up with Fred, and said goodbye.

He was gone a few moments later, and Buffy found herself still holding the phone, staring after him.

_ He promised he was coming back. _

Well, that was alright then, she could deal with that. She put down the phone and went to check on Spike again. He still hadn’t moved. Buffy sighed and sat down on a pile of towels she’d made a seat with on the floor next to the bath. This sitting still thing sucked. Why wouldn’t he wake up already?

She could change the bathwater, that would give her something to do; that grey tinge the bathwater was steadily taking on was really wigging her out. She pulled the plug and watched the dirty water swirl down the drain between his naked feet.  _ Spike feet, feet of Spike. _ She shook her head at herself. Still, it was weird that he had feet inside those big clunky boots. Buffy put the plug back in and started the water in the tub again. He didn’t seem to be getting any better.

She could… but she shouldn’t. She glanced between the cut on her arm she had managed to acquire somewhere and Spike in the bathtub.  _ You did it for Angel, and you weren’t even together.  _

She sat down on the toilet seat, trying to think her plan through. If she did it now, it would be healed enough for both Wes  _ and _ the doctor to discount it as from a previous fight. 

_ He saved you. He keeps saving you.  _

Maybe it was her turn. 

 

*

 

Well, apparently she was magic. Or her blood was anyway. Spike's face, which had been sallow, grey looking, and covered in burns, was slowly starting to return to normal. She was going to have to leave him for a little while to get more blood - she had fed him all the stuff in the fridge and some of her own - hopefully he would be unconscious until she got back. She wrote him a note and stuck it on the tiles in the bathroom where he was sure to see it if he woke, just in case. 

 

*

 

Buffy was  _ so _ not good at this waiting thing. It was only about 11 at night and she'd changed Spike's bathwater twice more since she'd gotten back from the butchers, fed him so much blood his demon wouldn't even rouse any more, (that, and he'd kinda developed this little pot belly. Blood belly? Who really knew? Definitely not her, that was for sure.)

She should ring Giles and find out what was happening in Sunnydale. He'd had all day to investigate; surely he knew something by now. 

 

*

 

Not only had Willow done spells on her, she'd tried to burn down the magic box!  _ And  _ apparently there were a bunch of nerds spying on her, which,  _ ewww _ , she was kinda glad she wasn't there for that, evil humans weren't really something she felt like she could weigh in on right now. But Willow!  _ Ugh _ ! At least Tara and Dawn had their memories back now,  _ all _ of them, not just the ones that had been taken in the last two days. All summer long Willow had been collecting bits of people's memories she didn't like and making them forget. Giles had been ropeable, and apparently had finally arranged for something to be done about Willow's magic. She couldn't even yell at her because the spell that Willow had cast on her had been so powerful it had taken all of  _ her _ memories (and wasn't that just ironic) until just before she had cast the curse on Angelus. 

Ugh! Willow! What was she going to do? 

_ Maybe she should try taking off Spike's pants now.  _

 

Hey! Say what now? 

_ Weeeellll,  _ Buffy supposed, tapping her fingers on her chin, it  _ would _ be a good distraction, and it wasn't like she hadn't seen it all before anyway. She checked to make sure Spike had at least one more pair of jeans before taking to his gunked up ones with scissors from the first aid kit. 

 

*

 

He was aware of pain. He was aware of pain and the feeling of being almost uncomfortably full. This was definitely not how he thought he was going to end up. Sizzled like a crispy critter, yes, not lying in the hotel bath with what seemed to be a wet towel covering his face. No, hadn't really expected that one. 

Spike relaxed back against the tub, relieved that at least this time there weren't manacles holding him captive. 

There was a soft snoring sound coming from his right, and something warm and soft rested gently on his neck. 

_ Buffy.  _

Of course she'd saved his worthless hide, she was the Slayer for god's sake. Took pity on poor defenseless things, didn't she? 

His body thrummed in a way he hadn't felt since the boxer rebellion. 

_ Had his demon bitten Buffy while he was unconscious? Oh God.  _ He didn't think he could cope with it if he'd hurt the girl by accident. He'd sooner stake himself. 

 

_ Thup-thup.  _

_ Thup-thup. _

_ Thup-thup. _

 

Only one heartbeat.

 

But it was slow and steady. The silly chit had fallen asleep next to the tub. Now that he was paying attention, his demon seemed vaguely miffed with the idea that he would hurt the girl while he wasn't in the driver's seat. 

_ Right, because his bloody demon had loved her first. Or, at least, been the first to admit it. Bugger.  _

 

With that apparent crisis squared away, he let the black waves of unconsciousness pull him back under. 

 

_ Wait, was he not wearing any pants?  _

  
  


*

 

The second time he woke, there was something strange going on. He fizzed, like tiny pinpricks in his brain, and his entire body tingled. Bloody Slayer, didn't she know the red stuff was supposed to stay on the inside? 

The room smelled different. The heartbeat was wrong. What the bloody hell was going on?

 

_ Wush-wup. Wush-wup. Wush-wup. _

 

The towel was lifted off his face to reveal a green demon with tiny red horns leaning over him. 

Spike frowned. "Who the hell are you then, mate? What have you done with the Slayer?" 

The demon held his hands out in surrender. "Steady on there, stud muffin, your lady is just fine. More worried about you, in fact. We barely convinced her to leave so she could attend her appointment."

 

"She went by herself?"  _ He'd promised her.  _ "I was-" he tried to get up and was easily thwarted by a mottled green hand pushing him back down into the tub. "Easy there, cream puff," the green demon said with a smile. "Wesley’s taken your girl to her appointment, she isn't alone. You just focus on getting better."

 

"Oi! Who're you calling cream puff, jolly green?" Spike wasn't entirely sure if he was upset or not. The green demon was staring him up and down with  _ very  _ appreciative eyes. Was this what being objectified felt like? It felt weird. He shook his head. 

"Well, aren't you just edible? All that brash and swagger." He hummed and sighed wistfully, eyes again straying down to Spike's groin. 

It was at this point Spike remembered he wasn't wearing any pants. His eyes darted surreptitiously down to look at himself.  _ Well…  _ Buffy  _ had _ provided him with a towel, but in light of the amount of Slayer blood Buffy had fed him it was proving inadequate. Very inadequate.  He sighed. "Think you can help me out of the tub, mate? I want to see the damage that bastard’s done to me."

"Angelcakes did this?" asked Kermit in a disbelieving voice. 

"Well, not so much did this as kicked me into the bloody power pylon we were trying to stop some fledglings from destroying. Thanks I get for trying not to be evil and whatnot, I suppose." He sighed; at least Angelus got an equally ridiculous nickname. 

The green demon grimaced and helped him out of the tub, thankfully with no fondling and with minimal eyeballing of his goods. 

 

*

 

He'd expected a lot worse. He wasn't quite at full strength yet, but he could walk with little to no help, and his remaining burns - deep ones on the back of his legs and lower back - were healing before his eyes. Very slowly, mind, but definitely healing. 

He smothered a dopey grin; bloody slayers bloody… blood had him high as a kite. His demon was urging him to throw himself in to Buffy’s bed, tangle himself in her sheets, wank, lay there until she returned - purring like a demented cat - then throw himself at her feet. 

Maybe later. 

Once he'd calmed down. 

_ Bellyrubs could be involved,  _ his demon pointed out, purring. 

Spike shook his head, what the hell was he going to do with his demon? The bloody thing was loopy as hell. 

  
  


*

 

"Spike, you can barely make a fist, no way in hell am I taking you out on patrol." Buffy crossed her arms and stared down at the injured, hyperactive, and - she suspected - incredibly high vampire. 

 

"Nah, it's all fine pet, I'm good to go." He shifted constantly, eyes wide and pupils blown. He got up and walked towards the door, only to trip over his own foot. How he'd managed to tie his own shoelaces Buffy had no idea. "Ok, ok," he said, still sitting on the floor and making animated hand gestures, "see pet, this is what we do. You hold on to whatever big and ugly thing you can find, and I'll beat the snot out of it." His face lit up. "Team work! We're a  _ team,  _ pet! We have to- to- do the work part now!"

 

Buffy sighed and bent over to pick him up off the floor, seeing as the vampire wasn't about to do it himself. She grabbed his arm and he latched himself on, making absolutely no effort to get up and- was that  _ purring?  _ "Spike," Buffy said incredulously, "are you purring?" 

 

It stopped abruptly, he looked up at her with wide eyes and shook his head adamantly. "Purring? Bloody hell,  _ no!  _ The big bad does  _ not _ purr! I was..." his eyes darted around the room, apparently looking for a word, "growling," he said nodding adamantly. "I'm growling...all predatory and evil creature of the night." He shifted into game face and snapped his teeth at her, which struck her as more funny than anything else. She giggled as his yellow eyes stared up at her. She had been expecting to see flat, predatory eyes - like a shark - but they were kind of… soft, under their ridges. More like an intelligent wolf or tiger, rather than the cold blooded, vicious killing machine she had sort of been expecting. Then again, she should have known better. Spike had always been a bit weird, and without the Angel fog over her eyes, it stood to reason that Spike's demon was strange too. 

 

"I think it's sweet." She pulled him up with a smile and set him back on the bed, much to his chagrin. 

 

"I'm not bloody…"  he complained, trying weakly to slap her hands away, "you really think so?" he asked suspiciously, looking suddenly vulnerable. It disappeared a moment later and he cocked a wrinkled brow at her in askance. 

"Yes, you big doof, and I'm not taking you anywhere because it's the middle of the day outside."

"Oh," he said, looking slightly embarrassed. 

Buffy grinned, "Oh, indeed. Get comfy, we're going to watch Tomb Raider."

"Angelina Jolie, huh?" he said in interest. 

Buffy raised an eyebrow at him, "Hmm, maybe not." She flicked through a few channels, trying to ignore the little pang of jealousy that bubbled up. She looked up to see Spike regarding her with a goofy smile.  _ Right, what was she doing again?  _ "How about…  _ Monty Python and the Holy Grail? _ " 

"Yeah?" Spike said in excitement. Buffy looked at him with a raised eyebrow. If he had a tail, it would be wagging right now. It was… cute. Spike being cute, yeah, she could live with that. It was endearing, really. She focused on the TV for a few minutes until she registered a snuffling, rustling noise from the bed next to her. 

"Spike… what are you doing over there?" 

Spike's head popped out from a mountain of bedding and pillows, looking for all the world like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Er… Nothing?" he said cautiously, eyes darting around the room, not willing to make eye contact. 

"Have you made a pillow fort?" Buffy asked with a grin. 

He frowned at her, "No, no it's a...a," he paused, "nest, I made a nest. Demon’s being all screwy with all the Slayer blood you fed us."

She grinned, "Is your demon just as high as you are?"

He frowned again. "No!" he said adamantly, shaking his head; it made the room spin a bit, but he soldiered on. Buffy’s kind smile made him decide that changing his answer wasn't such a terrible idea. "Yes! Ok? You barmy bint! I'm as high as a kite, no thanks to you!" 

"Hey! You weren't healing, I was washing your dust down the drain! It was the only thing I could think of!" 

"Really?" he said in surprise. 

"Yes! You aren't allowed to leave now! I've only just found you!" 

"I'm not?" he said in puzzlement, quietly wondering if she'd gone insane. "You did?" 

"Yes," she said firmly. "Now," she gulped and licked her lips nervously, "is that a pillow fort or not? Because, you know you're supposed to share, right? It's not a proper fort if there's only one person. You have to have a second and stuff. More fun that way. And it's against the rules."

"You are? It is?" he said dazedly. This being high thing was starting to have unexpected benefits. "Uh- yes?" 

Quick as a flash he was hit in the head by a packet of gummy bears and sour squirms, followed closely by a very warm, excited and giggly Slayer. 

Could unlife get any better? 

He wasn't sure it could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it was worth the wait!   
> Please leave a comment and I'll endeavour to get back to you as soon as possible.   
> And to anyone following my other works Unprophecy Girl and Now for something a bit weird should hopefully be a chapter for each out before the end of next week.  
> Thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Hey all!
> 
> It's been a while, huh? Sorry about that, the muse has had a serious case of the dear-god-no-please-don't-make-me-do-it's. In compensation, I give you a truly massive chapter- by my standards anyhow. I'm pretty sure my long-suffering, but amazing beta, Twinkles needed a nap after the numerous edits I badgered her for.
> 
> For anyone worried about Anya acting a little OOC in the middleish part of the chapter, please persevere a little longer. There is a legitimate reason.
> 
> Unfortunately, unlike the other time I told you this fic was going to end on chapter 5 there will most likely only be one more chapter after this, maybe an epilogue. I do have a plethora of ideas for a sequel, filling in a few of the blanks and moving the gang into the future. 
> 
> Please enjoy, and keep in mind that inappropriate comments will be deleted and reported.

_ "And you could have it all,  _

_ My empire of dirt _ " 

 

Hurt, Johnny Cash, 

Songwriter: Trent Reznor

Hurt lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

  
  
  


Spike had been quiet since they'd started driving back. He wasn't really the only one; she was silent too, thoughts churning around in her head like a badly balanced washing machine. 

"Will you-" 

"Won't bite anyone, Slayer."

"Please don't," she said quietly. The steel in his voice gave her chills. He'd addressed her by  _ title  _ rather than the way he usually said it - usually it was a nickname, it was fondness, familiarity, respect, desire, and a dozen other things she could never quite wrap her head around. 

But no, this Slayer was  _ Slayer, The _ . Apex predator, killer of his kind, it was distant, cold- cold in a way that made her insides hurt. 

"Would hurt you and the bit, wouldn't it? Would never do it on purpose." 

She knew he was telling the truth, but there was that trauma from He-with-the-large-forehead. She'd killed him, or thereabouts. Could she kill Spike? He had more emotion, more  _ passion  _ in his big toe than Angel did in his whole body; could she snuff that out? He was a light that had been muffled, muzzled by the Initiative with the intention of using it as a weapon. Like he was just some  _ thing- _ he was just  _ more  _ in a way Angel could never reach. Angelus would have burned out his brain, died, if they had captured him, whereas Spike… he was frustratingly  _ different,  _ something  _ other.  _ Something… And if he was something else, then what did that make all the other vampires that never bothered trying to take over the world? Was Angelus the Charles Manson of his kind or something? Like the mugger that had brandished a pistol at them and demanded their money. He was an outlier - normal people-  _ normal, _ normal people, the type that were never any wiser about the apocalypses she faced and made sacrifices for. The ones who got out of bed, went to work, and then occasionally on holidays, had children and birthdays and grew old and died. They didn't do that. 

 

Spike had almost killed the mugger. 

 

Which, and she could see, perfectly in her mind, the exact moment - the spark of realisation in his eyes - that everything they had now, before the mugger, was hanging by a thread. 

Fear. 

It wasn't  _ fair!  _

Spike had never been afraid before, and here he was, having accidentally slipped his leash - no; safety net, he wasn't an animal - through no fault of his own, afraid of  _ her _ . 

She could lose everything because Angel was a jealous, spiteful asshole. He was taking happiness from her again and didn't even know it. 

"Spike, pull over."

He didn't look at her as he pulled the car over onto the shoulder of the highway. He was shaking. Gripping the steering wheel with bloodless knuckles, as though he could just stay in the moment before they pulled off the highway, their relationship undefined and nebulous if he just held on to the steering wheel tight enough. 

"I want- need to know some stuff, I mean, before I- we decide anything."

"Anything, Buffy." It was a whisper. It was unlike him, and he'd used her  _ name _ , her real, actual name. She had never noticed the difference before, but this was serious. It was a thing that might take him away that neither of them wanted. 

"Who were you, I mean, before you were turned? What would you have been if you'd never had Angelus as a role model?" 

His eyebrows shot to his hairline; this was obviously not what he'd been expecting. He cleared his throat and winced. "Was college educated, Classics, I could-  _ can _ read about four human languages-" he must have seen the look of confusion on her face; a grimace twisted his lips, "Literature, poetry and the like. Can play the piano, poncy git that I was- am. Loved my mum, more than anything. It was just me and her after my da' died. She was sick for a long time…" he trailed off for a moment, then shook himself and did that weird hair pull thing again. "Went to all the stuffy, upper class parties and made an utter prat of myself - earned myself a nickname..." he clenched his fists in his lap for a moment and hung his head. "William the Bloody-" 

Buffy had an awful sinking feeling that she wasn't going to like the nickname his peers had given him. 

"-awful poet. Joked they'd rather have a railway spike shoved in their skulls rather than listen to my prattle."

"Oh my God, Spike, that's a-" she stopped herself saying awful by a microsecond, "-horrible!" 

He'd used his biggest embarrassment as a source of, what? Inspiration for his next life? She almost felt like they’d had it coming. At the very least they needed a good beating up. Maybe some broken bones. 

Spike continued as though he hadn't heard her. "Fancied I was in love with this, high society woman - Cecily; I was infatuated. Thought about nothing else for weeks, wanted someone that loved me, and so that mum could see me happy before she passed." He swallowed roughly, "Cecily barely noticed my existence, until some pricks stole a poem I was writing her, read it aloud for the whole party to hear. She said I was an embarrassment, that I was beneath her-" 

Bile rose up in her throat, acidic and burning in a way that made her feel like she was dissolving from the inside. Shame, too; she’d done that to him as well, "Spike, I'm sorry, I had no idea." Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she shook them away; it wasn't the time. 

"Took off crying into the night, straight into Drusilla's fangs."

 

"When I rose I was still me - William, just with all the brakes off. I felt powerful, and alive, more alive than I ever had while I'd actually had a heartbeat. Still wanted all the same things William did; to be loved, to care for someone, see the world, poetry, learn new things. Just wanted blood and a bit of violence on top, see? Was smitten with Dru from the first, William and the demon both. We - I, made ourselves what she wanted. And what Dru wanted - Dru wanted Angelus. She wanted a monster, and Angelus had no qualms in teaching me. He made her what she was and then threw her away when he got tired of her."

"You made yourself a monster because that's what Dru wanted?" 

He swallowed grimly and nodded, not making eye contact. 

"Do you want to go back to that?" 

 

"No," he said hoarsely. "Can't deny I'd be pretty lost without a bit of violence every now and then, and some o' the stuff-" He pursed his lips. "Spent a hundred and some years having to prove to every demon, vamp and lowlife in the room that I had the biggest balls, and protecting my lady- it's not something I can just… switch off, but I'm trying."

 

Buffy was quiet for a moment, "This you - the one that I've seen since we left Sunnydale - is that who you are when you don't have to pretend?" 

 

He nodded hesitantly. "Sort of. Can't deny I have a past. First time in a long, long time William and the demon have been on the same page. That I've felt comfortable in my own skin. They both love you, pet."

Buffy's mouth made a little 'o' of surprise. "Your demon doesn't hate me?" 

The corners of his eyes crinkled and he smiled sadly, resigned. "Demon loved you first, pet."

"But why? I don't understand."

"Respected you first - and Joyce - any woman willing to hit a vamp with a fire axe to protect what's hers is a force to be reckoned with. A worthy opponent. Admired you. Your strength, loyalty to your friends and family. It's what William had been searching for from the beginning. It's what the demon craves, now it's seen what real loyalty is, what real love is. Spent a hundred years trying to convince myself that loving Dru was enough. Was always something missing."

"That's big. Like really, really huge." Buffy groped for something intangible. "At the risk of pissing you off-" Spike let out an audible sigh, and rolled his eyes- "obviously, as I'm just finding out now, all vampires aren't created equal. Why?- how? And are you the outlier or is Angelus? Or- or is it more like a sliding scale?" 

"World not quite so black and white any more, Slayer?" he said with a hint of his old confidence. 

"Yeah, it seems to be heading that way." She arranged herself sideways on the front seat of the DeSoto, legs crossed and back pressed against the door. "So spill. Tell me Vamp 101 that the Watchers council don't want me to know."

"You're right, pet. All vamps aren't created equal; has to do with the amount of effort a sire puts into making the fledge. Most fledges we find on patrol in Sunnyhell - they're minions, cannon fodder. Weak bloodlines and usually sired by minions themselves. Not a lot of human logic or sense left in them. If, by some dumb luck, they manage to live a few years without a dusty end, the fledgling rage wears off and they might be capable of making something of themselves. It's unusual though. Childer - like," he winced, "Darla, Angelus, Dru and I, were turned because of some trait their sire was looking for," 

"Sires look for  _ human _ traits they want their childer to have? That they would keep after turning? That's… Woah." Buffy stared off into the distance for a few moments and then crinkled her nose. "What could The Master possibly have seen in  _ Darla _ of all people?" 

Spike barked a laugh. "Girl was a stone cold bitch. The Master found her dying of syphilis - much like dear old Angelus would have eventually - after living the life of a prostitute and then a madam. She ruled her girls with an iron fist and dumped them without remorse when they lost their looks or got themselves up the duff."

"Ew," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. 

Spike looked off into the distance for a few moments. "What did the old bitch say? What we were informs what we will become? Something like that."

"So William is still in there, he just has, like, has a timeshare with your demon?" 

Spike turned to face her, but still didn't make eye contact. "Sort of?" he wagged his head side to side. "More like a case of multiple personality disorder- but for the last hundred and some years I've been trying to ignore William to keep Dru happy."

 

Buffy thought for a few moments. “William was a good man?” she asked, chewing her lip. “And he’s still in there?”

Spike shrugged. “He’s half of me, pet, just used to letting the demon run the show.”

“Not that I don't like the demon, even more so now I know that he - you? - loves me. And you were so cute when you were all high on my blood before.” 

Spike grimaced. “I’m not cute!” he growled, though it was without much heat and he tugged at his hair again.

“You made yourself a monster for Drusilla; could you be a man for me? I'm not asking you to pretend that you're human; I'm asking if you could be more like the man that I've seen in the last couple of days, if you could let William get more of a look in than normal?"

 

"Yeah," he said hoarsley, licking his lips, "I think I can do that, pet."

 

"And you'll ask if you're not sure about something? I know you know the difference between right and wrong, but sometimes you kinda get confused about the grey." 

Spike smirked a little at that. "I'll try, pet. Do I get a cool arm band that says 'What would Buffy do?' on it?" 

 

"We'll work on the merchandising later, ok? I just -" her lips twisted, "what was going through your head when…"

 

"The mugger?" Spike swallowed roughly. "He had a gun, I thought he was going to take you away, and I wasn't sure if I could survive that again. I know I didn't handle the entire thing very well, but I didn't mean to hurt him so much- I thought I was going to get one good punch and lay the wanker out before the chip handed me my ass, then you'd be safe. But it didn't and my demon was so angry, so absolutely terrified you could've died I just-"

 

"You were scared? For me? But what about you? You could have been shot!" 

 

"A little bit of lead isn't going to stop me, sweetheart, but it would definitely kill you. I'd gladly take a bullet if it meant keeping you safe."

 

"Um," Buffy bit her lip, "that might have been the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

 

Spike had a stunned expression on his face. "Really, Slayer? You really have poor taste in company."

 

"Well," she said, smiling, "you're in my company, so how does that work?" She scooted over and rested her head on his shoulder, and he sort of melted, his whole body losing the tension that had wound him tighter than a bow string. 

 

There was a long, but much more comfortable, silence. 

 

"Where do we go from here?" he asked quietly. 

 

"We go back to Sunnydale. Much as I don't want to, but I have responsibilities there, regardless of whether or not I don't feel like being around Giles, Xander or Willow at the moment. I- I think we should tell Dawn and Tara that your chip doesn't work anymore, since we'll probably be around them the most. They deserve to know, and you're about as subtle as an air raid siren."

 

"Oi! Can keep a secret if I need to, pet. But, yeah, I suppose it's only fair to tell em', not that I plan on hurting either of them. Xander, on the other hand…" he finished grimly. 

 

"Look, I know Xander is an asshole, but I can't let you hurt him, Spike."

 

"I know, pet. I'm going to try not to. For you, not for him. He doesn't deserve your protection, but he has it regardless, like all the rest of the bleeding pulsers on this planet." They both fell into the comfortable silence again, and this time it wasn't quite so pregnant with 'what ifs' and more about the future. "What about us?" Spike listened in trepidation as Buffy’s heart rate went through the roof. 

"I-" she said hesitantly. "There is definitely something here, and I like it. I want it- you." She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "But it's all moving really fast, and I'm struggling with just about everything at the moment. If you could just be patient for now. It would mean a lot."

"I think I can do that, pet." Spike smiled, put the car into gear, kissed Buffy’s forehead and got back on the road to Sunnydale. 

 

*

 

"I just don't get it; Buffy got what she wanted, why is she always so sad? She should be happy, right?" 

Spike glared at Xander from across the room. They'd been back for over a week, and Xander refused to stop running his mouth. He wondered if hiring some poor sod to put the fear of demons in the boy would upset Buffy. He knew  _ he _ wanted to tear the boy limb from limb every time he opened his fat mouth. Spike glanced at Buffy; she didn't seem as though she would disagree with him right now - it looked as though she had heard the barely whispered comment from across the room. Fortunately, Anya - who maintained she was on Buffy's side regardless of how much of a callous asshole her fiancé was being - stalked across the room, and  _ slapped him.  _

It connected well and made a terrifically satisfying noise. 

Xander stared at Anya in dumbfounded silence, holding his hand over the bright red palm print on the right side of his face. Spike hoped it bruised. 

"Alexander Lavelle Harris, what is  _ wrong  _ with you? Even  _ I'm _ not that oblivious or insensitive." She gave him a hard look. "It doesn't matter that she got 'what she wanted', you know very well that her keeping it would have meant putting the entire world in danger, not just us. She didn't really have a choice. She's mourning- it was a life she extinguished to keep us all safe, and because of that she's missed out on all the possibilities that might have come with that child. A family, watching them grow up, their first words, their first steps, all the annoying, smelly, but oddly-endearing things babies do." She pursed her lips, "She's not going to get to squeeze tiny chubby cheeks, change endless diapers or be awake at all hours of the day or night looking after the tiny, crying, helpless human." She gave Xander a look so withering that Xander seemed to dehydrate where he sat, and he squirmed uncomfortably. "She did that for  _ you,  _ Xander. She's given two lives to keep the rest of us safe now. Don't be an asshole about it, and understand what she's done has actually cost her. Keep your mouth shut for once. Stop eating so many donuts, you aren't going to fit into your tux at this rate."

 

Spike wondered if clapping after that little speech would be frowned upon; demon girl had  _ finally _ given the whelp what for! It was certainly a cause for celebration. He raised his hands to clap, but was beaten to the punch by Tara, of all people, who was looking at Anya with a new sort of respect and a big grin. The biggest he'd seen in a long while, actually. Good for Glinda. 

There was a scraping of chair next to him, and the smell of tears followed Buffy from the main floor of the magic box and into the training room. He waited for about 30 seconds and then followed, making it to the closed door at the same time as Anya. She reached for the door knob, and Spike reached out to cover her hand with his. 

"Wait," he said quietly, stalling her. "Give her a second." 

She took her hand off the knob and fidgeted anxiously, not making eye contact with him, worrying the hem of her shirt while she waited. It was very peculiar; he'd never seen Anya acting this way before. She seemed-  _ smaller  _ somehow. 

"Anything you want to share, pet?" he said softly. 

She stared at the floor beside his feet for a moment and then wrapped her arms around him and burst into tears. He stood there frozen for a moment, looked around, then awkwardly patted her on the head. Apparently no one had seen that. She stepped back a moment later, brushing a tear away, sniffing. 

"I- when Buffy was gone over the summer…" she bit her lip and hugged herself. "I found out I was pregnant- and, and, I was so excited! But everyone was sad, and we were planning on resurrecting Buffy, so I held off on telling Xander, but…" her sentence petered out and she looked away again. 

Spike touched her shoulder gently, "You lost the tyke? Pet, I'm sorry." He said it with genuine remorse; he'd always liked demon girl, and she, Tara, Buffy and Dawn had gotten a lot closer since he and Buffy had come back from LA. Xander didn't deserve her. "Did you tell the whelp?" 

She shook her head and hugged herself harder, looking away again. 

"Are you going to tell him?" 

She shrugged, biting her lip again. "I don't know how. None of the articles I read told me how to do it."

He listened to Buffy on the inside of the training room for a moment. "Go talk to Buffy, pet, I'll… be in in a minute." Spike shook his head at himself; all this do-gooder stuff was rubbing off on him. Being evil was much easier. He sighed and walked over to the table where Xander and highschool-Willow were having a hushed conversation. Willow gave him a mild look of fear, which seemed refreshing for a moment, until he realised that the small amount of trust they'd built over the summer was gone. She didn't even remember who Dawn was, for chrissakes. God, being a white hat was exhausting. Why was he doing this again? 

_ For Buffy, of course.  _

"Xander," he said firmly, "you need to go and apologise to Anya and Buffy."

Xander looked shocked for a moment at Spike using his actual name, but, in true Xander-like fashion, he brushed it off and went for the jugular. "Like you know anything, deadboy," he spat, and again, Spike entertained the idea of ripping the boy limb from limb. It would be bloody, and his demon reveled at the idea. Would beating the boy to death with his own limbs be satisfying enough, though? He could always go with the old 'stop kicking yourself, stop kicking yourself' as he beat the boy to death with his own feet. That would be funny. He frowned. Except, Buffy would hate that, and besides, he'd promised not to eviscerate Xander, no matter how much he deserved it. 

"When have you ever known Anya to be passionate about anything besides sex, money and vengeance before?” he asked quietly, ignoring the look of disdain on the boys face, and also the squicked-out look on Willow's. "Don't you think that's a little bit out of character?"

The boy looked thrown for a few moments. _ What do you know, the whelp might have a brain in between all that bone. There could be hope for him yet.  _

Xander gave him a cautious look. "What, exactly, are you trying to say?" he said slowly, though with growing trepidation. 

"I'm saying you need to go talk to your girl, because she's hurting and you don't know why. Though, I would’ve hoped it's become pretty obvious by now."

Xander went white. "She would have told me," he said, shaken. "Wouldn't she?" 

Spike raised an eyebrow, and Xander bolted from the main floor of the magic box and into the training room. 

There was a tweedy presence behind him. "Did I just-" Giles said, suddenly at a loss for words. 

"Don't make a thing out of it, Rupes. Happen to like demon girl, and if it requires me reminding the whelp he's inadequate, then bully for me." He turned without another word and walked into the training room, ignoring Giles' spluttering as he went.

They were both getting soft in their old ages. 

"W-what was that about?" asked a very young-sounding Willow from behind him. 

Spike left Giles to stutter his way through; it wasn't his responsibility to spell it out for her.  _ There _ , that felt a bit better, he was still a bit evil, after all. 

 

*

 

Five minutes later Spike was starting to second-guess himself. All three of them were in the training room blubbering away, and he really only wanted to comfort Buffy. Sure, he felt bad for demon girl, but she had Xander crying all over her and apologising for everything he could think of, so she was looked after and also not his responsibility.  _ Maybe Tara could help? _ Spike walked out of the training room to look for Tara, who immediately caught his eye and motioned him to go back into the training room. At a loss for what to do he retreated back the way he’d come and sat down awkwardly next to Buffy. She leaned into his side and rested her head on his shoulder. Her tears bled through his shirt after a few moments and he hesitantly wrapped his arm around her. All the tension went out of her as she slumped against him and twisted her fingers into his shirt as if to stop him from leaving.  _ Silly chit, he wasn't going anywhere without her. _

"Thank you," she whispered, nuzzling her face into his neck. 

Spike's demon almost purred in satisfaction. He pushed it down; now wasn't the time. 

"Didn't do anything, pet," he told her softly. 

She slapped him gently on the chest. "You managed to get Xander, of all people, to admit he was wrong and apologise. That's no mean feat, mister. I'm proud of you." She wrapped an arm around him and smiled a little bit against his chest. "You did good. I'm not sure I could have even got him to do that."

Spike chuckled and rested his chin on her head. "I'm sure you would have worked it out eventually, pet."

 

*

 

It was a few hours later that Giles decided the time was ripe to inform them all of his imminent departure - he would be taking Willow with him, of course, and he announced he didn't plan to take up residence in the United States again, but, rest assured, that he would be on call for emergencies and the like; he was only going to be a very expensive phone call to a completely different timezone away, of course. And they could all, surely, see that this was the best course of action going forward. Or so he said. 

 

"So when is your replacement getting here?" asked Buffy, in the tone of someone bored with this conversation, though Spike could hear her heart beating a million miles an hour, the smell of unshed tears, and the anxiety rolling off her in waves. 

 

"I thought I'd just established that I've taught you all that you need to know," said Giles, obviously thrown with the deviation to the script he had carefully constructed. 

 

"Maybe you have," said Buffy amiably with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "But that doesn't change the fact that the council is employing you to act as my watcher - remember that thing where I got you your job back in the midst of our last apocalypse? You know, the one where I  _ died _ ? It's fine that you don't want to be my watcher any more, I mean, it's fine for you, you get to retire to your stuffy library back in ye old England, but I don't get to quit. Ever. So," Buffy took a steadying breath. "I'll ask again, when is your replacement getting here?" 

When he didn't answer she continued, "Or have you been so  _ negligent _ , so  _ irresponsible _ as to not find someone else who can read the big books of monsters that are in languages that take a lifetime to learn?" 

 

"Buh-" he said dumbly. "Negligent? I - you have all the resources at your disposal-" 

"Except the ones you took back to England with you when you left the hellmouth unguarded the  _ first _ time  _ and _ you're taking the only person who sort of knows how to read them with you now. Or did you not think we noticed the lack of bookness since I've been back?"

"Those are my personal reference books-" he started again. 

"And how often-" 

Buffy’s retort was cut off by a commotion from the front of the shop. A harried-looking Wesley Wyndham-pryce stumbled in, knocking over a display near the front of the store and somehow making the bell above the door jingle even louder. He was carrying a light blue bundle with a small red smear across it. 

"Buffy," he said, looking slightly relieved, "I need your help- I need… asylum. Please." 

Buffy took a few steps towards him, but paused when the bundle he carried let out a wail. "Wesley- is that...?" she asked hesitantly, "Whose baby is that?" 

Wesley’s eyes skittered around the shop before coming back to Buffy. "It's Angel's," he said seriously. "And Darla's. - I think Angel means to kill him- Connor, that is. There is a prophecy-" He searched one-handed through his jacket, still holding Connor. Eventually he pulled out a sheaf of paper. "It says- " he walked over to the research table and put down the papers, fanning them out so everyone could see, and pointing, " _ The father will kill the son _ -" 

Giles sat down at the research table and began to go through the notes while Wes anxiously rocked Connor. 

 

"You're bleeding, mate, what got a hold of you?" 

Wesley looked up from the paperwork at Spike and grimaced, as if just remembering he was wounded. 

Tara took Connor from Wesley, who looked panicked for a moment and tried to take him back. 

"He'll be safe as houses with Tara, mate," said Spike from behind him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Never met a more nurturing, gentle or sweeter soul than her. Girl's a natural healer too." Tara blushed gently and began humming to the baby. She started a slow pace around the store, rocking him softly as Wesley looked at them in indecision. 

Buffy tugged on Wesley’s arm, steering him away from Tara and into the office, plunking him down on a chair and liberating the big first aid kit from the cupboard, Spike following close behind. 

Buffy set about pulling things out of the first aid kit. "What happened?" she asked, looking him over carefully. "And take off your shirt." 

Wesley looked cautiously at Spike. 

"Not going to eat you, mate, have more control over my demon than Angelus ever did." 

That seemed to placate him, and he painfully started to rid himself of his jacket and shirt. 

Buffy gasped; there was a slash that started at his collarbone, barely missing his throat, and continued diagonally down his chest, ending just above his navel. "You drove all the way to Sunnydale like this?" 

 

"Yes, well, " he said, looking rather embarrassed, "leaving the danger in Los Angeles seemed the most important thing to be done at the time."

Buffy shook her head and started tending to his wound. 

"Did Angelus do this? Would’a thought you'd be dead if he went after you," said Spike, eyeing the wound. "Doesn’t usually keep them alive if they've wronged him. Or if he does..." he pulled a face. 

 

"No," Wesley said, grimacing as Buffy pulled pieces of shirt from his wound. "He doesn't know. It was a woman named Justine. We were originally contacted by a woman named Aubrey - we found them both to be Daniel Holtz's followers - he has gathered rather a large amount."

 

"Holtz," said Spike doubtfully. "Daniel Holtz the  _ vampire hunter _ . The vampire hunter that Angelus fucked over before  _ I _ was even born?" he raised an eyebrow in disbelief. 

 

"The very same- er, human, as far as I could surmise." He hissed as Buffy doused the slash with iodine, and she looked up apologetically. 

"Bloke must've made a deal with the devil to still be breathing this far along." 

Wesley nodded.

 

Buffy measured some tape against Wesley’s chest. "This needs stitches, you know." 

Wesley glanced down and turned a little white, suddenly confronted by the size of his wound. "I'd rather not-" he started. 

 

Spike began to root around in the first aid bag. "Slayer, don't we have any of that glue? The stuff I used a few days ago on your elbow when you sliced it open on that barbed wire."

Buffy looked critically at the wound, "We'd still have to tape it closed, but that would probably work. What do you think, Wes?" 

 

"Uh-," he said uncertainly, looking between Buffy and her vampire. 

 

"Wow, Wesley got ripped while he was away," said a voice from the doorway. Then followed by; "Why is Tara holding a baby?" 

"Dawn! Ask Wes about his exercise regimen later, I'm trying to put him back together, or did you not notice the big gash in the middle of his chest?" 

Dawn took a second look at Wesley and wrinkled her nose. "Ew, I'm out." She flounced back onto the main floor. "Tara, can I hold the baby?" 

 

Three simultaneous ' _ No _ !'s'  ejaculated from within the office, and Buffy rolled her eyes. "Go and do your homework!" She turned back to Wesley, ignoring the sad duck noise coming from Dawn. "So, glue and tape? My elbow's healed up pretty nicely." She turned her arm to show him the healing wound, and Wesley nodded. 

 

*

 

"I rather feel like a craft project," Wesley thought aloud after a while. 

"Well, prepare to get crafted, then. Just call me Buffy The Glitter Slayer," she said with a smile, and Spike groaned and rolled his eyes. "You love it, don't pretend."

"So," said Buffy, sticking her tongue out in concentration, working on Wesley’s wound. "Should we be expecting an army? How did you get involved with this Holtz person anyway?" 

 

“We were originally contacted by a woman named Aubrey; she came to Angel Investigations about her son that had snuck out of the house and was... turned, down by the pier… apparently he tried to gain access to her house and burned up in the sunrise the same night.”

 

“He died and rose the same night? That's-” Buffy looked at Spike, who gave a sort of frowning half nod, “very rare.”

 

“She may well have been lying, but I would have believed that Angel would have noticed something. I suspect he may have been distracted by Connor. Then, later Justine and Holtz."

 

"Right," Buffy said, still frowning at his chest, "Tell me about Holtz."

 

"Uh, Holtz seemed concerned about Connor's welfare, given what Angelus and Darla inflicted on his own family," he said hesitantly.

Buffy looked up at Spike. "Do I want to know?" 

Spike's gaze flickered towards where Dawn was still trying to convince Tara she should be allowed to hold Connor. "No," he said, looking back at her, "no, you don't."

Wesley looked between Buffy and Spike, stunned the former was willing to trust the latter. 

 

Tara poked her head in the office door just as Buffy was packing the first aid kit away "When was the last time Connor was fed?" she asked, shifting Connor in her arms gently as he started to fuss. 

Wesley looked confused for a moment, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. "I don't remember." He shrugged his borrowed shirt on with some difficulty. "I have some supplies in the car, I'll get them in just a moment." Wesley smoothed down his shirt as he stood up and started heading for the front door.

 

“Er, Wesley, a few of these documents refer to The Nyazian Scrolls; your translations, they seem altered, somewhat, compared to the one in our possession,” said Giles from the research table. 

Wesley paused mid-step, jaw dropping. “ _ You _ have a copy of the Nyazian Scrolls?”

Giles nodded. “Considerably more intact than yours, it seems.”

“Wes,” said Buffy, nudging the frozen ex-watcher, “you were getting Connor’s things, it’ll be here when you come back, and Connor is making hangry noises.”

Wesley shook himself. “Of course- I- I’ll be right back.” He gave the research table a longing look and then hurried outside. 

 

“What's with all the babies?” asked Xander after a few moments. “And why are we helping, firstly,  _ Wes the wuss _ , and also a child of Angel  _ and  _ Darla’s? Are we sure he’s not the antichrist or something?” Anya elbowed Xander in the ribs and glared at him. 

 

_ "And the fathers shall not be put to death for their sons, nor shall sons be put to death for their fathers; everyone shall be put to death for his own sin _ ," said Spike quietly, now looking down at Connors tiny face. Tara smiled up at him and he coughed uncomfortably and stepped back.

“Did you just-” said Giles again, removing his glasses. 

 

“Leave him alone, Giles, he has layers,” said Buffy, giving him a big smile.

“Like an onion!” put in Dawn, excitedly.

“I’m not a bloody ogre, bit,” Spike said with irritation, though not as much as usual.

Tara frowned at Xander. “He’s an in-innocent, Xander, I can see it in his aura.”

“But...but vampire baby?!” moaned Xander, motioning towards Connor. “Shouldn’t we be doing something about him?”

“Yes, Xan,” said Buffy rolling her eyes, “we’re going to get him fed, and then we're going to keep him safe from whoever wants to hurt him, because he hasn’t done anything wrong, because, for the whateverth time Xander,  _ he’s a baby.  _ How would you like it if we blamed everything your father does on you?”

Spike rolled his eyes and glanced at the clock; 3:15, Wesley had been gone a while and this argument was starting to wear on him.

 

“But that’s not my f-... Oh,” said Xander deflating. “Fine-” he said throwing up his hands in defeat, “we’ll help Wes the Wonder Wuss and his vampire baby.”

Spike rolled his eyes again. “As if your say-so would have made-” he stopped, cocked his head and turned to face the quietly tinkling door. 

 

"On your knees," said a cold, but very quiet voice from the doorway. No one except a vampire and the person the order was intended for could possibly have heard it. 

 

“Uh-Slayer, we’ve got company.”

“Shit. Dawn, out of here,  _ now, _ ” Buffy hissed, slowly edging in front of Dawn.

Spike glanced around the room; Tara and Connor were too close to the front of the store to get them both out of the line of fire.

A bullet cracked through the shop and hit just to the left of Dawn’s fleeing form, barely missing her shoulder; she froze where she stood, raised her hands and slowly turned to face her would-be shooter.

 

Wesley was knelt in the doorway of The Magic Box with a grim look on his face and his hands laced together behind his head. There was a gun trained on his skull and the cold metal of another aimed at Dawn.

 

“You must be Holtz.”

 

*

 

It had taken him entirely too long to get out from under the thumb of Sunnydale's finest, an entire _ week _ for fuck’s sake, but he was away now, and no one was  _ ever _ going to lock him up him ever again. He'd die first. 

 

Not that he  _ had _ been locked up. Technically he'd only escaped from Sunnydale General. There was no need to make his story sound any less cool, though.  _ Yeah.  _ Because he was bad, he'd escaped  _ The Law _ , a wanted man. He was… He was… Going to find his secret stash of magic weapons and make that blonde bitch  _ pay _ . They never would've gotten into that accident if the stupid cunt hadn't suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet. 

 

Their evil plans had been within their grasp, but,  _ no,  _ now he was missing a big chunk of his ass from the accident, and was going to have a permanent limp, all because of  _ her _ . 

Everything bad that had ever happened to him had been her fault. She festered in his brain, boiled under his skin, laughing at him. His hate for her, in every waking moment, hounded him, hunted him. She thought she was so much better than him. 

He was going to take her, show her she was beneath him, that she was  _ nothing,  _ make what they'd done to that Katrina bitch look like child's play. 

With a slayer in his bed and under his control he would rule this worthless town. 

 

*

 

"Ah, so my reputation precedes me."

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow at the… now she thought of it, she had been imagining someone taller than the man who currently had Wesley hostage. "No," she said dismissively, "Wesley’s just spent the last hour or so telling me all the things that got him to this point, you know, rocking up on my doorstep and asking for asylum, the works. Which makes you, the guy, coming into to my town, threatening my family with guns and violence, the bad guy." 

The cold metal swung towards her, and then Tara, and Spike growled low in his chest. 

"Give me the child and no one gets hurt." His accent was hella strange. 

"I can't let you take Connor- I can understand you wanting revenge on Angel, - which, go ahead, I might even join you - but Connor's an innocent, he doesn't deserve whatever you plan on doing to him."

 

"He took my  _ family!  _ Killed my wife and turned my daughter into an abomination like him! I want revenge!" Holtz spat, his hands starting to shake. 

 

"Turning Connor is not something a good man would do. It's a thing Angelus would do. Are you really willing to lower yourself to his level to get revenge? It would make you just as bad as him," Buffy said, crossing her arms defiantly, though still slowly inching in front of Dawn. 

 

A sick smile twisted the man's face. "Oh, I don't plan on turning the boy. I plan on raising him as my own, teaching him all about the horrendous deeds of his father. Then, the  _ son _ shall kill the father." 

 

_ If you hadn't come, I couldn't go.  _ Buffy shuddered.  _ Stupid prophecies.  _

 

"I can't let you take Connor."

 

"Really?" he said with a raised eyebrow, turning his head to look at Tara. "And just how do you think you're going to stop me?" 

 

Buffy ran a quick inventory of the room. Willow was next to useless, torn between cowering behind Xander and climbing underneath the research table. Tara was hampered by holding Connor, and Buffy was pretty sure she wouldn't dare try any magic while holding him, anyway. Xander and Giles over near the research table could be useful, but neither were close enough to any weapons in the store to create a diversion. Anya was cowered behind the cash register; there was a baseball bat with her behind there, but she would absolutely get herself shot trying to get it to either herself or Spike. 

That left her, Wesley and Spike. 

_ A crossbow would be handy about now.  _

"How are you planning on getting out of here, mate? You'd have to know we'd hunt you down once you've scarpered. Looking after the tyke would make you mighty vulnerable."

 

"Give me the child," Holtz reiterated, jerking the gun in Tara's direction. Tara looked at Buffy, who was coming up blank with regards to a plan. 

"Now!" Holtz thundered. His hands shook with fury, making the guns he held shake alarmingly. 

Buffy gave Tara a barely perceptible nod, hating herself for being unable to think a way out of their situation. 

 

The next few seconds that followed happened almost too fast to register. Holtz knocked Wesley unconscious with the butt of his gun, scooped Connor out of Tara's arms, and shoved her away from him. He dropped what looked like a bundle of sticks on the floor by his foot, and stomped on them. In a flash of blue-white light a swirling portal appeared behind him. He grinned and took a step backward. 

_ Holtz was going to take Connor to a different dimension so he wouldn't be interrupted in turning Angel's son against him.  _

She couldn't let that happen. The decision seemed to make itself, and suddenly she was flying through the air, intent on stopping Holtz from leaving this dimension and on saving Connor. 

The hand not holding Connor jerked twice as the gun went off, and  _ God _ , there was so much pain. Fire rocketed along her scalp and a second, more acute stabby-sharp-fire-pain exploded in her shoulder, throwing off her trajectory and tumbling all three of them uncontrollably through the portal. 

"BUFFY!" then Spike was there, less than a second later, grabbing the bag that had been at Holtz's feet and tumbling through the portal himself. 

 

The portal closed with a loud 'pop' behind him, leaving everyone looking at each other in stunned silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, I hope you guys enjoyed that. Sorry about the cliff hanger, I promise everything will be ok-mostly that is.  
> Please leave a review if you feel so inclined, I'm ready for the frustration, bring it on. :P

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Guys,
> 
> Sorry for the heavy content, all.
> 
> Unfortunately, it gets worse before it gets better.
> 
> If anyone would like any info on other clinics like the one that Buffy visited, please have a look at the links below.
> 
>  
> 
> Vice News; Fake abortion clinics.
> 
> https://video.vice.com/en_ca/video/fake-abortion-clinics/55e0dbc4ca0b0b2c784ce599
> 
>  
> 
> John Oliver; Crisis Pregnancy Centers
> 
> https://youtu.be/4NNpkv3Us1I
> 
>  
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment, however, please know that inappropriate comments will be reported and deleted.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys.


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